Journey with consequenses
by LoSa
Summary: Teen Power Inc story #7. During a job, the gang finds an odd grave. Richelle tells that this grave is cursed. The others don't believe her, but all the same it's interesting for them to find out what's been going on there. Tom tries to work out his relationship with Sunny. Tom's narration.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1. Journey with consequences**

I woke up because of a terrible crashing noise. Immediately after that I heard Brian's furious shouts.

'It's becoming impossible to live in this house,' he roared.

'Calm down, dear,' I heard mum's anxious voice. 'What happened?'

'What happened?' Brian roared even louder than before. 'Look what fell onto my head. I could have been seriously injured! That's what happened.'

'All the same, there's no need to shout,' mum went on in a mild voice. 'You'll scare the boys.'

'I just wanted to sort out my old things in this storeroom,' Brian went on roaring. 'And this stupid stuff falls on my head.'

At first I was in no hurry to find out what was going on downstairs, but on hearing about the storeroom, I jumped to my feet, rushed out of my room and ran downstairs. The scene I saw there was really impressive. Storeroom's door was wide open. A stepladder, a few cans of meat and fish, three plastic cups, forks, knives, combs, towels and other camping stuff were scattering about on the floor in picturesque disorder. Brian sat on the floor among these things. His shirt was strewed with rice. A sooty billy sat on his head like a helmet. Mum was standing next to him, looking at him anxiously.

'Brian, please, calm down,' she said and gingerly started brushing the rice off his shoulders.

'Can anyone tell me?' Brian shouted. 'How did all these things get in my storeroom?'

'It's…' I babbled. 'The guys left their stuff here.'

'What guys?' Brian yelled.

'Friends,' I whispered.

'Why?' he immediately asked a new question.

'They needed to leave it here,' I mumbled, trying hard to think of a good excuse.

'What for?' Brian was glaring at me.

'They…Um…they went for a hike,' I forced myself to say.

'Around my house?' Brian stamped his foot. 'Do you think I'm an idiot?'

'Brian,' Mum desperately looked from Brian to me.' Please, calm down.'

'Hang on,' Brian left his hand. 'I'm asking you,' he turned to me, 'why did your stupid friends fill my storeroom with their stupid stuff?'

'For camping,' I decided to follow the first version.

Brian made a careless gesture. The billy fell off his head, crashed onto the floor and rattled aside. For some reason it had a good effect upon him.

'Okay,' he said more quietly.' Okay, Tom, tell me please, why did you put these things into this storeroom?'

'You talk,' Mum smiled with relief. 'You talk. I, meanwhile, will prepare breakfast.'

'Good idea,' Brian approved it. 'So,' he turned to me again. 'I'm listening to you. Which of your friends left these things here?'

'Nick, Elmo and Zane Quistok,' I said the truth.

'Why?' Brian asked.

'Our house is the nearest to the school,' I said. 'They were to go hiking straight after classes.'

'What the hell classes?' Briand was starting to get angry again. 'Today is Saturday!'

'They were to go yesterday…' I broke off, but it was too late.

'Yesterday?' Brian looked steadily at me. 'Are you saying that they have already gone?'

'Yes…That is no,' I mumbled. 'I mean they will go hiking next week on the same day as it was yesterday.'

'Breakfast is ready,' I heard Mum's saving voice from the kitchen. 'Adam! Jonathon! Get up!'

'No, wait, darling,' Brian protested. 'At first I want to figure out what's going on.'

'What's wrong again?' Mum immediately came running up to us.

'I work in school, I teach these loafers how to live a decent life,' Brian's voice carried all over the house. I noticed that Adam and Jonathon crouched down on the top of the staircase, gingerly peering through balusters at their father. 'I have only two days-off to have a rest. And when I decided to calm my nerves and sort out my things in the storeroom, this junk fell down on me. And the more, absolutely outside kids filled this storeroom, where I keep my old papers and private things, with stupid camping junk, which they prepared for a day that is the same as it was yesterday, but the next week.'

'Brian, what are you saying?' Mum stared at him with horror in her eyes.

'That's not me! He is saying this,' he pointed at me. 'And I want to receive a clear answer, when these three idiots will go for a hike and why do I have to keep their junk among my business papers?'

'You don't have to,' I replied. 'They just asked me and…'

'They asked!' Brian yelled. 'They asked and now I have to poke around in this grain like a hen,' he shook some rice off his shirt-collar. 'Call them! Tell them to take this stuff away immediately.'

'I can't,' I spread my arms. 'They are not in Raven Hill now.' If this drama had started a little bit later, I would have thought how to explain it. But now my sleepy head didn't work at all.

'What do you mean they are not in Raven Hill?' Brian kicked at the billy. It rolled with a clang down the hallway. 'Where are they then?'

'They went on a hike,' I replied and closed my eyes, expecting a storm.

'Uugh! I can't stand this!' Brian groaned, his head in his hands. 'What the hell hike?' he roared, turning to me. 'You've just told me that these three idiots are going to go hiking next week on the same day as it was yesterday!'

'He probably means next Friday,' Mum put in doubtfully.

'Right,' Brian exclaimed. 'So, Tom, answer me. Why did they leave their junk here and go for a hike yesterday?'

'Um…' I faltered. 'They went for another hike yesterday.'

'I'll better speak with their parents,' Brian grabbed the phone. 'Maybe they'll tell me more.'

'No, Brian, please,' I pleaded.

'Breakfast is getting cold,' Mum put in gingerly. 'Brian, leave it now.'

'Okay,' Brian suddenly calmed down. 'In the end why should I care about three loafers, who go hiking all the time? But after breakfast you, Tom, will have to take this junk away from here into your room. You should be responsible for your decisions. If you decided to keep their stuff here, keep it in your room.'

'Sure, I will,' I nodded vigorously.

'Very well,' Mum also sighed with relief. 'Let's have breakfast then.'

'Come on,' Brian shook some rice off his shoulders and went towards the kitchen.

'Ugh,' I felt an incredible relief. I didn't want to make him angry today. Sunny and I had arranged to go to the city. So I was going to keep myself as quiet as possible lest give Brian an excuse to make me stay at home. And luckily this storm was over.

I shouldn't have thought like that, because, of course, the next moment a can of stewed meat fell out of the storeroom and crashed onto the floor with a loud clatter.

'I can't stand this!' Brian yelled. 'How can I live in a house where cans and grain fall down on my head?!'

'It didn't fall on your head,' I said. I didn't want to say that, I just couldn't help myself. Of course I immediately regretted that I'd said this.

Brian furiously pushed the kitchen door open and sat down at the table. During breakfast he kept talking about my behavior, and irresponsibility, and my bad marks at school and everything. I tried to remain calm, but all the same he decided that I would stay at home and help him to sort out things in the storeroom.

I didn't say anything. Just chewed my piece of cake and sipped hot chocolate, cursing my bad luck and Zane Quistok. We never should have listened to him. His ideas always got us into troubles. So why the hell did we listen to him again?

###

This story began on Monday. After first lesson I found Elmo, who had promised to give me our maths assignment, because I didn't get on with maths at all. Elmo was explaining how he'd solved those equations, when Zane ran up to us. His eyes were sparkling with excitement.

'We need to speak,' he said meaningfully.

'What for?' Elmo asked suspiciously. As I'd already said, Zane's ideas always caused troubles for anyone who'd been so incautious as to tangle with him.

'Not now,' Zane replied. 'Let's meet after classes.'

'We're going to Liz's place after school,' I said. 'You can go with us.'

'Very good,' he nodded importantly. 'See you after school then.' He turned round and rushed away. Elmo and I looked at one another in bewilderment.

'He seems to have an interesting idea,' I said.

'We'd better keep away from his ideas,' Elmo muttered. 'Otherwise we'll be very sorry.'

Afterwards I thought of his words. It looked as if he knew what was going to happen.

###

Finally school was finished for the day. We met Quistok at the school gate and headed for Liz's house. Actually we were going to discuss the lack of jobs for Teen Power Inc, but I couldn't help inviting Quistok to go with us. I was dying to know what his ingenious brains had invented.

'So?' I demanded as soon as we settled down in Liz's lounge room. 'We're listening to you.'

'I've got really great plans for this weekend,' Zane smiled all over his face.

'We perfectly know your great plans,' Elmo glanced at him from under his brows.

'This time everything will be okay,' Zane assured him. 'I estimated every little detail. This weekend is going to be very interesting and unforgettable.'

'Come on! Speak!' I demanded. The others also seemed to be interested.

'So,' Zane began with an air of importance. 'One of my friends, Sailor, is going to root for…'

'What has it to do with us?' I interrupted impatiently. 'Get closer to the point.'

'A sailor?' Liz repeated at the same time. 'But where did you get acquainted with a sailor?'

'Sailors usually are so strong and handsome,' Richelle drawled dreamily. 'Does your sailor have his own ship or work for someone?'

'You're nutty,' Zane shook his head. 'He's never even been on a ship.'

'What kind of sailor is he if he's never been on a ship?' Liz glanced interrogatively at him.

'Are you mad?' Zane exclaimed. 'It's Kevin Seaman. He's a friend of mine. He graduated Raven Hill High last year. We call him Sailor. So,' Zane said quickly, before someone interrupted him again. 'There will be a football match in Melbourne this weekend. Sailor is going to root for our football team.

'So?' Elmo stared at him in puzzlement. He wasn't keen on football and sport.

Nick, Liz, Richelle and I also took this news indifferently. Even Sunny, who was mad on sport, didn't cheer up. None of us could understand what it had to do with us. Okay, if this match was in Raven Hill or in the city, we might go. But in Melbourne… So we all looked at Zane expectantly.

'Don't you understand?' he asked.

'No,' I shook my head.

'We'll all go!' Zane shouted joyfully. 'Except for the girls, of course.'

'Not all then,' Nick snorted.

'Don't interrupt him,' I jumped excitedly around Quistok. I didn't know yet what he was going to suggest, but I felt that it would be very interesting.

'There will be only guys…' Zane started to explain.

'Don't bother to apologize,' Liz grinned. 'We have no desire to go.'

'Good,' Quistok approved girls' position. 'We'll have fewer problems without you.'

'I wonder how you will go to Melbourne,' Nick glanced grimly at Zane. 'We'll have to spend a lot of money.'

'No, we won't have to,' Zane grinned. 'I've got a plan.'

'Oh, I see,' Nick drawled. 'Zane's suggesting _walking_ to Melbourne. Let's name this experiment "how to survive in the wilderness".

'I won't walk,' Elmo said firmly. 'Can you imagine how many days it will take for us to reach Melbourne? I'm not Leo Tolstoy to do such tricks.'

'Who?' I stared at him.

'Leo Tolstoy, a Russian writer,' Elmo grumbled. 'He left his house in his old age and walked away to somewhere. And ended up dying at a train station. I don't feel like repeating his destiny.'

'Oh, come on,' Nick sneered. 'Just say that you're afraid to go.'

'I'm not afraid,' Elmo grumbled.

'So you're not afraid to walk like Leo Tolstoy?' Nick went on in the same sly tone.

Elmo looked gloomy and ran his hands through his curly red hair in a worried sort of way. He didn't want to repeat this feat of the old master of classical literature. But knowing Nick's nasty nature, he knew that if he refused to go, Nick wouldn't let him get away with it so easily.

'Okay, Zane, I agree,' Elmo said in a tone of a prisoner, who was going to accept his capital punishment. 'When will we walk?'

'No, you dope, we won't walk,' Zane grinned. 'We'll go by train.'

'By train?' Elmo repeated in surprise.

'Yes, by train,' Zane nodded. 'We'll go on Friday just after classes.

'What train? What are you talking about?' Elmo cried in horror. 'I don't have so much money!'

'Forget about money,' Quistok said stoutly. 'I'm telling you! I've got a plan. Sailor and I spent a lot of hours working it out. We estimated everything, every little detail. Actually when Sailor saw my plan, he said that I was a genius!'

'Poor naive Sailor,' Nick drawled. 'It seems to me,' he glanced sideways at Elmo, 'you'll never reach Melbourne.'

'Don't listen to him,' Zane waved Nick off impatiently. 'Just the other way around, it will be an interesting and useful journey. We'll cheer for our football team, see Melbourne and then return to Raven Hill. By the way, Nick, what about you? Are you with us? Or you're afraid?'

Nick didn't answer. You could see that he was struggling with himself. On the one hand he wanted to go, but on the other hand, he wasn't sure that this crazy idea would end well.

Sunny rubbed her chin thoughtfully. 'I wonder how you're going to go to Melbourne and back without money?' she said.

'Well, actually we'll have to spend some money,' Zane replied.

'Typical promotional trick,' Nick muttered. 'At first you say that we don't have to spend money at all, but then we find out that we'll need a lot of money after all.'

'Stop talking about money,' Quistok exclaimed. 'Honestly, Nick, you're just a walking accounting office, not a man. I mean we need money for food. Surely you don't want to starve for two days. And also we need some money for local train tickets. But not many. We'll buy only economy class tickets, and besides, Sailor knows how to communicate with ticket inspectors. I can assure you that we won't even have to pay for most of trains.'

Zane opened his bag and pulled out a paper roll. He unrolled it on the floor. We all crowded around to see. Lines, arrows and icons were accurately drawn all over the paper.

'It looks like a general plan of a battle,' Liz said admiringly.

'It's better than a plan of a battle,' Zane glanced at his work with love. 'Because it was calculated accurate to the second, like the best commanders did, but for peaceful purposes.'

'We perfectly know how your peaceful purposes end,' Nick sneered. But you could see that he also was captivated by Zane's plan. Somehow Zane can inspire people by his ideas.

'So listen,' Zane went on explaining. 'The experiment of the Century! Journey from Raven Hill to Melbourne and back to Raven Hill on local trains and busses. Minimum risk and maximum profit. Look, we change trains here, here and here,' he pointed at dots on the plan. 'Then we have to take a bus to reach this town. From here we take a train again and ride to this station. It will be night when we reach this station, so we'll have to wait there for about four hours. Don't worry, Sailor's team consists of big, strong guys. There's no need to be afraid when you're with them. So, at five in the morning we take the last train that will carry us to Melbourne. After that we'll go straightaway to the stadium…'

'I personally usually wash and brush my teeth in the mornings,' Nick put in.

'What's a big deal,' I waved both my hands at him. 'You're hopeless, Kontellis! It's the Experiment of the Century, and all what he thinks about is washing and brushing teeth.'

'Do you think I should be like you?' Nick snapped, hinting at my tangled, sticky-up hair.

'I think you'll endure it if you don't brush your teeth once,' Zane went on. 'Okay. After the game we'll have four hours for walking about Melbourne. Then we'll set off back to Raven Hill.'

It was a crazy plan, but as I'd said above, Quistok could captivate everyone by his ideas. And this time was no exception. Nick, Elmo and I were drawn into it without our will. I really wanted to go. This idea seemed so tempting.

'I don't understand one thing,' Nick jerked me out of my thoughts. 'If we leave Raven Hill on Friday after classes and return only on Saturday night…'

'Not on Saturday night, we'll return on Sunday morning,' Quistok corrected him.

'Cool!' I admired. More and more I wanted to go.

'This all the more. So we're going to spend two nights in the voyage,' Nick droned. 'I don't know about your parents, but mine will start panicking already on Friday evening.'

'I think my father won't be worrying too much,' Elmo said doubtfully.

His father, Zim, as we all called him, was very busy working in the Pen and trusted his son to make his own decisions very long time ago. But I guess two nights was too much even for Zim. Let alone Nick's parents, who always overprotected him.

'Do you think I'm a fool?' Quistok resented. 'I told you that I'd thought of every little detail, didn't I? We'll tell our parents that we'll go for a three-day hike.'

'Great!' I exclaimed admiringly. It was impossible to think another simple and at the same time brilliant excuse. Our parents would easily let us go on a hike with school.

At this point the discussion was over. Quistok really thought of everything. Nick, who didn't take this plan seriously at first, had been drawn into it by the end of discussion, and after a short conversation with Richelle in the next room, he said what he would go. Elmo also agreed to go. He wasn't keen on it, and it crossed my mind that he decided to go just because he'd already agreed to go, and didn't want to take back his words. But anyway he was in.

As for me, I really wanted to go, but that evening Brian said that he wouldn't let me go for a hike or anywhere else before I cleaned my room. I did it. I spent two days cleaning my room, but all the same Brian said that I was grown up and should be responsible for my behaviour, so I couldn't go on a hike until I learnt to keep my room tidy.

That drove me mad. I ran to my room and slammed the door. But anyway the journey was out for me. The rest of that week I heard Elmo, Nick and Zane discuss the journey and envied. But then Sunny suggested going to the city. It immediately made me feel better. I liked to spend my time with Sunny. We have so much in common and she's probably the only person who understands me so well.

On Thursday there were some problems. The caring parents prepared a lot of camping things for their kids. Nick's mother put so much food in Nick's backpack, that he could eat it for a whole month if he wanted to. So did Zane's parents.

After classes on Friday they brought their backpacks to my place and asked to leave this junk here. Grudgingly I agreed to hide it in the storeroom, where Mum and Brian kept their old things. They hardly ever looked into it. So the guys left only necessary things and some food in their backpacks, and put the rest of the camping stuff, like warm clothes, blankets, spare socks, canned food and other touching signs of parents' care into the storeroom. How was I to know that Brian would decide to sort out his things in this storeroom this weekend?

###

The whole Saturday I spent working with Brian in that storeroom until late evening. Brian was pleased, what I couldn't say about myself.

'See?' he said, looking at things, which were neatly ordered in little piles. 'We had a good time together. Now you can call Sunny and go for a walk with her.'

'I can't,' I grumbled. 'It's almost eleven o'clock.'

'Well, you can go tomorrow,' Brian looked a little bit confused.

I went to my room and closed the door. My mood was completely ruined. I hadn't gone with the guys to Melbourne, and I hadn't go to the city with Sunny. I spent the whole day with Brian among dusty things instead. And I had to spend the rest of the night in my room, full of camping junk.

I called Sunny and we spoke for a while. Then I went to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2. Occurrence in the train**

Sunday wasn't much better. The guys didn't turn up in the morning, as they were supposed to do. They didn't turn up after lunch either. The walk with Sunny was cancelled again. There were no problems with Sunny. She's smooth-tempered and easily understands everything.

My problem was Brian. He isn't smooth-tempered at all. That morning he woke up in high spirit. After breakfast he started asking why I was staying at home instead of hanging out with my friends. Then he and Mum decided to go out with their friends, and he insisted that I go with them. I lied that couldn't go because I had a lot of homework to do. It worked and, to my great relief, an hour later he and Mum went away with Adam and Jonathon in tow.

I made a cup of hot chocolate and a big sandwich, and settled down in the living room, waiting for the guys. I waited on and on, but they didn't turn up. Gradually I was starting to worry. At three o'clock Sunny joined me and we waited together. We called Nick's cell phone several times, but he was out of range.

At six o'clock we finally heard the doorbell ring. I opened the door and my jaw dropped. Zane, Elmo and even Nick looked terrible. They looked incredibly tired, their clothes were wrinkled and dirty, there were dark bags under their eyes. Elmo had a black eye, which was awfully swollen. A huge dark purple bruise covered his cheek under the eye.

'What's… the matter?' I babbled, stepping aside to let them come in.

'Elmo, who did it?' Sunny anxiously looked at his black eye.

'Fucking fans,' Elmo stammered. 'At the stadium.'

'It was his own fault,' Nick grumbled. 'How hopeless you are if you stand among fans of a football team and root for the opposing team.'

'I didn't mean it,' Elmo confessed. 'I don't understand anything in this stupid game. And when that guy from the opposing team scored that goal into our goalposts, I really thought that our team did it.'

'Oh I see,' Sunny giggled.

'And then was that corpse,' Elmo went on.

'What corpse?' I stared at him.

'Male corpse,' Elmo replied.

'At the stadium?' Sunny opened her eyes wide.

'No,' Nick waved his hand. 'How would a corpse get at a stadium?'

'The corpse was in the train,' Zane Quistok put in.

'He was sitting next to me,' Nick wrinkled his nose.

'He paid money for us and then we talked to him,' Zane said. 'He said that he also always rooted for this football team.'

'Who?' Sunny and I chorused.

'The corpse,' Zane replied gravely.

'Maybe it's a nickname,' Sunny suggested, turning to me. 'Like Sailor or something.'

'No, it was the real corpse,' Nick grumbled. 'A dead guy. I should have thought twice before listening to you,' he glanced crossly at Quistok. 'You always cause troubles for anyone.'

'Hang on,' I shook my head. 'I didn't get it. How could you talk with a corpse?'

'When we talked to him, he wasn't the corpse yet,' Elmo replied.

'Okay,' Sunny held her hands up. 'Listen. Why don't you go to the bathroom, wash face and hands, and change your clothes. Then you'll feel better and tell us everything what happened.'

Half an hour later all we were sitting in my kitchen. Nick, Zane and Elmo had washed their faces, changed into clean clothes, which they had left in the storeroom and combed their hair. I, meanwhile, had made five cups of coffee and a pile of sandwiches. Sunny had inspected Elmo's eye and given him some ice, wrapped in a tea towel. Then she'd called Liz. Ten minutes later Liz was sitting at the table with us, looking anxiously at Elmo's black eye.

The three guys had calmed down by that time and managed more or less clearly to tell what had happened to them.

###

They reached Melbourne without troubles. Sailor-Quistok plan worked very well. When the train carried them into Melbourne, Quistok importantly pointed out that this time his estimations had been done perfectly. Nick and Elmo agreed with him.

Anyway, they arrived at the stadium about half an hour before the game. So the freakiest fans from Sailor's team had some time to chatter with fans of the opposing football team. A couple of times, to Nick and Elmo's horror, this exchange of abuse was about to turn into a fight. But Sailor, who didn't want to have problems with the police, successfully prevented fights between fans of both teams.

So, as Nick and Zane said, the journey would have been great and funny, if it hadn't been for Elmo, who confused everything and in the middle of the game started to root for the opposing team. To Elmo's unhappiness, it was the third goal of the opposing team, and the score became three to one.

As soon as Elmo admired the "beautiful goal", he instantly got punched in the eye by one of the fans. Sailor meddled immediately, of course. Actually it saved Elmo from more serious injuries. But when the opposing team scored another goal, Sailor advised Elmo to go as far as possible away from the stadium, otherwise he wasn't sure that Elmo would leave the stadium on his own.

He didn't have to ask twice. The next moment Elmo rushed to the exit so fast, that Nick and Zane could scarcely keep up with him.

'If he wasn't in such a hurry, everything'd be okay,' Zane shrugged.

'If I wasn't in such a hurry, I would be dead now,' Elmo objected.

'Oh, come on! Nothing would happen to you,' Nick drawled. 'At worst you'd receive another black eye. So what? There was no reason to run so fast.'

'I didn't ask you to run with me,' Elmo snapped. 'You could stay at the stadium.'

'And leave you alone in the strange city?' Nick raised one eyebrow. Elmo didn't answer.

'So Nick and I raced after Elmo,' Zane went on telling. 'And we left my plan with the timetable of trains for the way back in Sailor's bag.'

'Oh, I think I understood,' Liz said in a low voice.

'Me too,' Sunny looked at the travelers with sympathy.

But as it turned out we didn't imagine how much they had to go through. The main problem was that the plan of this journey summed up the experience of two outstanding personalities – Zane Quistok and his friend Sailor. Quistok worked out the analytical part of the plan. Sailor put his vast experience and knowledge of life into this plan.

Before the game they'd arranged to meet at the train station. But because of Elmo's fast running, Quistok forgot to clarify the time and place of the meeting. He remembered about it much later. While Sailor and his friends were at the game, Nick, Zane and Elmo decided to walk around Melbourne. Then they paid almost all their money for lunch in a cafe. Only after that they remembered that they hadn't determined when they should be at the train station.

The situation got worse, when they realized that none of them knew how to link with Sailor or other fans. As it turned out Sailor lived next door to Quistok, so Zane didn't know Sailor's phone number, because they never spoke by phone.

'Don't worry,' Quistok kept saying. 'Don't forget that Sailor and I worked out this plan together. Now we should go to the train station. I can assure you that as soon as I glance at the timetable of trains, I'll remember anything.'

Nick and Elmo weren't so sure. Now they both cursed themselves that let Quistok draw them into it. Elmo suggested that Nick should call home and ask his parents to take them from Melbourne, but Nick positively refused to call. I couldn't blame him. I could imagine how Mr Kontellis would react if he knew that his son was in a strange city, instead of hiking with school. And for the same reason Nick forbade Elmo and Zane to call their parents. In the end they decided to leave this variant for emergency.

They rushed to the train station. Quistok was right in one thing. The timetable of local trains refreshed his memory.

'This is our train!' he said cheerfully, pointing at the line on the timetable. 'But we missed it. This train has already gone.'

'Oh, great,' Elmo muttered.

'Don't make a fuss,' Quistok didn't seem to worry. 'Look here. The next train leaves in ten minutes. Hurry up! We can't miss it!'

They quickly found the train and burst into it. As soon as they settled down in vacant seats, Elmo started whingeing that his black eye needed emergency medical care, which he couldn't receive because of Quistok. And after all if it hadn't been for Quistok, he, Elmo, would have been sitting on a soft divan in his home, watching TV with his absolutely healthy eyes.

I don't know how long Elmo would have whinged about his black eye, if Zane hadn't noticed that the train swept past the station, where they had to get off and take another train. So they had to get off at the next station and go back on another train, which was late.

Then the guys, trembling with cold and fear, spent more than four hours at an empty old station in the company of a very dirty, homeless old man and his dog, which had a proud name Zeus. Though, as Nick pointed out, they were almost glad that that old guy was there. At least when he was near, they weren't so scared of horrible squeals, which were coming from the nearest copse.

So when the train, warm and shining with lights, finally arrived at the station, Nick, Elmo and Zane felt incredible relief. But they were completely behind schedule. At the time when they were supposed to be home, they were getting on a train hundreds of miles from Raven Hill.

'Ugh,' Quistok breathed out, leaning back in his seat. 'It's the last train. Soon we'll be at home.'

'Don't say like that,' Elmo muttered, feeling his swollen eye. 'I noticed that it's always a big mistake to say that everything will be okay, because things immediately get worse.'

There were a lot of empty seats in the carriage. The three guys sat down into seats and stared out the window. They all were terribly hungry, thirsty and tired. Exhausted by two sleepless nights, they soon fell asleep, rocking with the movement of the train, and woke up only when someone started to shake Zane's shoulder.

'Mmm? Have we arrived?' he asked sleepily.

'Arrived,' a rude voice answered him. 'Give me your tickets.'

Elmo, Nick and Zane immediately became wide awake. They sat bolt upright and stared at each other. They managed not to pay for tickets in previous trains. In some trains they'd managed to convince ticket inspectors to let them stay in train, telling the sob story of their journey, or they were as unnoticeable as possible and ticket collectors just went by, or something else. But now it looked as if their luck turned away from them again.

'I'm sorry, but we're in trouble,' Nick said very politely, turning his charm on. 'We don't have tickets, but we can explain…'

'If you don't have tickets, you must pay a fine,' the ticket inspector rudely broke him off.

'We don't have money about us,' Nick mumbled, losing his confidence.

'If you don't have tickets and don't have money to pay a fine, you'll continue this conversation in the police station,' the ticket collector said severely.

'But listen,' Zane tried to object, 'we've got real problems. We were left in a strange city without money and …'

'I don't care,' the collector interrupted him indifferently. 'That's not my problem. You're here and you must pay a fee. If you can't, you'll be explaining this to the police.'

'Hey, why are you so cruel?' there was a gentle voice from the opposite seat. The guys looked up and saw two good-dressed men. One of them, with a moustache and big eyes was smiling friendly. 'Don't you see that these three boys don't look like homeless hooligans?' he went on. 'How do you know what could happened to them, maybe they say the truth. You must be sympathetic to people who got into troubles.'

'If I was sympathetic to every ticketless teenager, I would have been already sacked,' the ticket inspector grumbled. 'So?' he turned to the boys again. 'Pay money or I'm calling the guard,' he pulled out a walkie-talkie from his pocket.

'But we don't have money,' Quistok cried in desperation. 'Please, don't call the guard!'

The two men in the opposite seat glanced at each other. 'I'll pay for them,' said the one with the moustache, pulling out his wallet. The second man grinned and also pulled out a wallet. They paid the fine for three disastrous-travelers.

'Thank you very much,' Elmo, Nick and Zane heartily thanked them as soon as the grim ticket collector went away.

'Never mind,' the man with the moustache grinned, tucking his wallet back into his jacket. 'I also was in your funny age. By the way, my name is Sam.'

'Sam…?' Elmo repeated, thinking that it would be impolite to call this imposing man just Sam.

'Just Sam,' the man smiled. 'I don't like this "Mr" stuff.'

'My name is John,' the second man smiled. He was taller and stockier than Sam. 'Hey, what happened to your eye?' he glanced at Elmo's swollen eye.

'At the football game,' Elmo said briefly.

'Please, don't remind him,' Quistok pleaded. 'He's been whingeing about his black eye since he received it. But it was his fault! He went to root for the one football team and suddenly started to root for the opposing team.'

'It's very bad, mate,' Sam grinned, shaking his head. 'Oh, I also like football.'

'Excuse me,' Quistok faltered. 'Um…all what we said is truth. And…um…do you have something to eat? We didn't eat anything since last afternoon.'

John laughed. Then he pulled out a big paper bag and a bottle of mineral water from his bag, and handed them to Quistok. The paper bag was full of sandwiches. 'Dig in!' he said cheerfully.

He didn't have to ask twice. The three guys pounced on the sandwiches. Even Nick forgot about his coolness and self-conceit. While they were chewing, the two men told them some things about themselves.

Sam was from a little village and was going to Raven Hill to visit his friends. John lived somewhere on the outskirts of Raven Hill. He had his own pigeon house, which he inherited from his grandfather. He grew messenger pigeons and just fancy pigeons there.

The guys in their turn told how they went to root for a football team with other fans and accidently lost in the city, and now were going back home on their own. The two men laughed a lot, listening to them.

'Oh, God!' John groaned. 'You're so funny, guys. Okay,' he sighed, standing up and pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. 'I'll leave you for a smoke. I'll be back soon.'

'I'm with you,' Sam nodded and looked at the boys. 'Can you watch our bags if we leave them here?'

'Sure,' Zane nodded.

The two men went towards the exit of the carriage, gaily talking and laughing. Nick, Elmo and Zane finished off the sandwiches, put napkins and other trash away and started looking out the window. Several minutes later John came back and sat down in his seat.

'Sam met his friends in another carriage,' he explained. 'He said that he'd come back in ten minutes.'

But Sam didn't return in ten minutes. He didn't come back in twenty minutes either. Another quarter of an hour passed, then half an hour; a few minutes more, Sam still didn't come back. John went to smoke again, hoping to find him, but returned alone.

'It's weird,' he said, sitting down next to Elmo. 'He isn't in the smoking area or in the next carriage. I wonder where he can be.'

'His things are here,' Zane pointed at Sam's big bag. 'He couldn't get off without them, could he?'

'Maybe he went with his friends into another carriage?' Elmo suggested.

At that moment a ticket inspector and a guard walked hastily past them. They both looked anxious and talked something to each other in low voices.

'I don't like it,' John looked grimly after them.

'All what I care about is reach Raven Hill,' Nick grumbled.

'Don't worry, we'll soon be there,' Zane whispered.

'You're always in a hurry with conclusions,' Elmo muttered, carefully feeling his swollen eye. 'It's getting more and more swollen,' he complained.

'Don't start it again,' Zane groaned. 'Soon you'll be at home and…'

He broke off, because at that moment the ticket inspector, accompanied with two policemen, came into the carriage and came up to them.

'Where's your mate, who was sitting here?' the ticket collector asked a question.

'He went to smoke about an hour ago,' John replied. 'Is something wrong?'

'Come with me, please,' the ticket collector asked instead of answering. Then he glanced at Nick. 'You look older than your friends,' he said. 'Come with us, too, please.'

'No,' Elmo and Zane protested instantly. 'We'll go all together.'

'Stay here,' a policeman said flatly. 'Your mate will come back soon.'

He took Nick's arm and led him towards the exit of the carriage. John shrugged and followed them. They went through two carriages and stopped at one of the first seats. 'Take a look, please,' the policeman asked.

Nick looked to where he was pointed. Sam, crouched, was lying still on the seat.

'Is it your mate?' the policeman asked. John nodded silently.

'Is he…dead?' Nick babbled. The policeman nodded.

'What happened?' John asked in a low voice. 'Was he murdered?'

'We can't say for sure yet,' the policeman shook his head. 'There're no signs of any sort of struggle. Maybe he had a heart attack. Do you know something about his health?'

'A heart attack?' Nick couldn't take his eyes off still Sam.

'Yeah,' the ticket inspector nodded. 'Life is unpredictable, sonny. Now you're alive, but the next moment you might be already dead.'

Nick stared at him.

'Take the boy away from here,' the policeman said firmly.

The ticket inspector dragged Nick back to Elmo and Zane, leaving John talking with the policemen. Nick sat down in his seat, staring blankly into space.

'What happened?' Elmo and Zane asked in unison.

'S-sam… he is…' Nick babbled, looking down at his feet.

'What happened to Sam?' Quistok started to worry.

'He is dead, this Sam,' the ticket inspector said. 'Probably he had a heart attack.'

John and one of the policemen came up to them. The train began to slow down. It was coming to a station. John started putting his things into his bag. He did it in complete silence.

'You three take your things, too,' the policeman said to Elmo, Zane and Nick. 'You'll have to get off at this station and tell everything what you know about this man in the police station.'

'But we can't,' Nick groaned. 'We must be at home by now! We can't get off here!'

'I'm sorry, but you have to. You're witnesses, so we must interrogate you,' the policeman said. 'Don't worry, soon you'll be released to go home.'

'But we actually…' Elmo wanted to say that no one of them could say anything about Sam, because they'd known him for less than an hour.

'Come on,' the policeman took Elmo's hand and led him down the aisle. Nick and Zane had no choice but to follow them. John was going grimly behind them.

They all got off the train. Two other policemen carried a stretcher, covered with a white cloth. Nick, Zane and Elmo tried not to look at it. The policeman, not letting go of Elmo's hand, led him, Zane and Nick to the guard room of the train station. John was led to another room. The policeman left Nick, Zane and Elmo in the guard's room and went out. The three guys sat down at the desk, not knowing what to say and what to do.

'Listen,' Zane whispered. 'Don't tell them your real names.'

'Are you mad?' Nick and Elmo stared at him.

'Everything will be okay,' Zane whispered urgently. 'We don't have documents about us. They'll never know if we lie.'

Elmo shook his head disapprovingly. 'No, I won't lie,' he hissed. 'We can't lie to the police!'

Nick nervously ran his fingers through his hair. His head didn't work properly because of all these events which had landed on them in so short a space of time. But he clearly understood that if his parents learnt how their beloved son spent this weekend, they would resort to drastic repressive measures for certain, so he completely didn't want to tell his own name either.

'So,' another policeman came in and sat down at the desk, facing them. 'What can you say about this man?'

'Nothing,' the guys shook their heads. 'We met him in the train about an hour before his death. That's all.'

'Okay,' the policeman opened the notepad. 'Now,' he pointed at Zane. 'Let's start from you. What's your name?'

Zane was silent.

'I'm waiting,' the policeman looked up at him.

'Simon Luper,' Zane answered after a long pause.

'Address?' the policeman went on.

Zane dictated Simon's address, telephone number and even the post code.

'Now your turn,' the policeman pointed in Nick's direction.

'Brent Howe,' Nick said.

'Address?' the policeman demanded.

'Um…my address is…' babbled Nick, who never knew Brent's address.

'Raven Hill Road, 85,' Zane put in.

'Right,' Nick nodded with relief.

'Good,' the policeman nodded. 'You?' he glanced at Elmo.

'Tom,' Elmo said unexpectedly to himself. 'Tom Moysten,' and he dictated my address and telephone number.

'Why were you in the train without money and tickets?' the policeman asked severely.

'We were in Melbourne with our friends,' Zane replied. 'Then we accidently lost the others and had to go home on our own. But never mind! We're okay. We called our parents. They know about us.'

'Okay, if you say so,' the policeman nodded. 'So, this Sam. How did you get acquainted with him?'

The interrogation lasted for about an hour. Zane, Nick and Elmo honestly told everything what they knew about Sam and his friend John. Finally the policeman closed the notepad and said that they would call them if they needed to know something else. Then Nick, Zane and Elmo were put in a car and were driven to Raven Hill, where they ran straight to my place.

###

'Why the hell did you tell them my name,' I exclaimed indignantly when they finished telling their story.

'I don't know,' Elmo shrugged. 'It just happened. We didn't want the police to call our parents.'

'Aha, you didn't want,' I retorted. 'But you think that they can call _here_, don't you? Couldn't you say another name? Why mine? Don't you understand that if Brian has a call from the police, he'll haul me over the coals?'

'Tom, I'm sure that they won't call,' Sunny put in gently. 'What for? The guys didn't know this Sam. What else can they say to them?'

'He was a good man, this Sam,' Zane sighed. 'I feel sorry for him.'

'Me too,' Liz whispered, her eyes glistening with tears.

'I'm going home,' Nick stood up. 'I don't want to discuss anything else right now. I'm beat.'

The others also stood up to go. It was quite late already.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3. At the school**

Next morning I met Liz, Sunny and Elmo at the school gates.

'Oh, wow,' I grinned, looking at Elmo's black eye, which was awfully swollen, 'You're so good-looking today.'

'Very funny,' Elmo pouted.

'Tom,' Liz put in, 'I was just telling Elmo and Sunny that I've had a call from Matron from Craigend this morning. Miss Plummer and a friend of her want to go to the graveyard to visit their friends' graves. Matron asked if we could escort them there. They're too old to go alone, and Matron is very busy these days and can't drive them to there. I said that we agreed. I hoped you wouldn't mind. So what do you think?'

'Sure,' I shrugged.

'I'm also in,' Sunny nodded. 'I need some cash.'

'Hi!' I heard a playful voice from behind and felt the scent of expensive perfume. I turned round. Mary Horsety, our classmate, was standing next to me and smiling friendly.

What's wrong with her? I thought suspiciously. Horsety, or just Horse, as we called her behind her back, never took Liz, Elmo and me seriously. She spoke to us only when she needed something. Although, she got on with Nick. And with Richelle recently.

At this time Zane Quistok and his sister Zeny came up to us.

'Mary-y! Hi!' Zane's mouth twisted into an admiring grin from ear to ear.

'Hi,' Mary didn't even deign to glance at him. 'Liz,' she turned to Liz. 'You promised to help me with the essay. Remember?'

'Of course,' Liz nodded.

'Liz, I really need your help,' Mary went on in a very serious voice. 'My parents says that if I don't receive a good mark for this essay, they will cancel my birthday party on Saturday.'

Oh, this is it, I thought. That's why she's so friendly with us. As soon as she receives her good mark, and I'm sure that she'll receive it, because Liz writes really good essays, she'll forget about Liz's help. And I don't think that she'll even invite Liz, and the rest of us to her party. Not that I wanted to go to her party, quite the opposite. But I think that it's unfair.

'I can't let them cancel my party,' Mary went on. 'You know, I want to invite Mr Craven.'

Mr Craven is our history teacher. Horse has been in love with him since he came to work at Raven Hill High, and she did her best, trying to make him pay attention to her. Mr Craven, quite the opposite, tried to keep as far as possible from her. So when I heard that she was going to invite him to her birthday party, I couldn't help snorting with laughter.

'He'll flip you off,' I said.

'Oogh, you wretch!' plump Horsety swung her big fists wildly at me.

I ducked to the side. Horsety's fist swept past me and hit Elmo's shoulder. He howled with pain.

'You move over, pipsqueak,' furious Horse snapped. 'Otherwise I'll bash you by accident. Though,' she snorted, noticing his black eye, 'I see that someone has already done that.'

Elmo blushed and muttered something, but stepped aside. Horse was a quite big and strong girl, and in such a furious state she could seriously injure someone.

'Mary, you look great today,' Zane broke in. I don't know why, but he always liked Mary.

'I know,' Horse reacted quite indifferently to his raptures. She didn't feel the same to Zane. Well, she didn't feel anything to him at all. There was only one man in the whole world for her - Mr Craven. Poor Zane. I perfectly understood how he felt.

Zane still kept staring at her in fascination. I nudged him in the ribs. 'Invite her,' I whispered in his ear. He made a face at me, then nodded.

'Mary, listen,' he said. 'I've made a cool thing for your party. What about…'

'Sorry, Zane, I don't think there will be enough place for you,' Horse waved him off like shooing away a bothersome fly. Zane's face fell in disappointment. At that moment Nick went through the school gates.

'Nickie, hi!' intensely spreading spicy perfume fragrances, Horsety moved towards him. 'Will you come to my birthday party alone or with Richelle?' we heard her coquettish exclaim.

I glanced at Zane. He was standing with his jaw dropped. He looked really sad. Elmo clapped him on the shoulder.

'There's no need to be so sad,' he said reassuringly. 'She isn't worthy of this honour.'

'I'm sick of this Kontellis and his rich daddy,' Zane replied grimly.

Mr Brinkley's car drew up beside the school gates. Richelle clambered out of the passenger seat, kissed her dad on the cheek and leisurely came over to us. She looked as glamorous as ever.

'Hi,' she said. 'What does she want from him?' she looked discontentedly to where Nick and Horse were talking.

'Ask your boyfriend,' Zane grumbled.

'Cheer up, Zane,' Sunny grinned. 'Look over there,' she jerked her head towards the school gates. Mr Craven was coming through them.

'Mr Craven!' Horse immediately rushed to him. Nick was left standing there alone just in the same state of heavy bewilderment, as Zane had been a few minutes ago.

Zane grinned with pleasure and saying, 'see you later,' ran towards the school building. Nick came up to us.

'What did she want?' Richelle asked jealously.

'Nothing,' Nick shrugged. 'She just asked if we'd go to her birthday party. I said we'd come together.'

'Hang on with your party,' Liz chipped in. 'We have a job for today.'

She quickly told Nick and Richelle about Matron's offer. 'It will only take one or two hours,' she said hurriedly, noticing how Nick and Richelle's faces changed when they heard the news.

'To escort two old women to the graveyard,' Richelle groaned. 'Liz, are you crazy?

'There's nothing wrong in it,' Sunny said reasonably. 'We ought to help old people. One day you'll also be old and weak and will need help.'

Richelle stuck her bottom lip out sulkily, but she didn't start to argue. Nick also agreed. He wasn't over the moon about this job, but he had spent all his money in Melbourne, and we still didn't have other offers. It looked as if all people in Raven Hill, who needed our help, had died.

During the conversation we came into the school and went up to the second floor, where we all had a math lesson. There we came across Zane again.

'Listen,' he rushed towards us, 'I've thought of something. It's going to be great!

'What have you thought?' I asked with interest. 'How to jig maths?'

I never mind skipping lessons, especially maths and other lessons like that. But today I really wanted to skip maths, because of all these worries and the guys' journey, I completely forgot to do my maths assignment.

'No,' Zane replied. 'I'm speaking about Mary's party.'

'Ooh,' his words disappointed me very much. 'I thought that you, Zane, wanted to make another surprise for the maths teacher.'

'No way,' Zane shook his head firmly. 'She won't endure one more surprise from me.'

'Think about me, not about the teacher,' I said with reproach. 'I didn't do my assignment again. Do you want me to have more troubles with Brian?'

'It's not my problem,' Quistok obviously didn't feel like playing risky tricks with teachers today.

'You are getting old and boring, dude,' I clapped him on the shoulder. 'Old! Old!'

'Yeah. Unlike him, you Tom will never grow up,' Nick drawled. 'Even old and with grey hair and long beard, you'll ever be a little kid.

Liz and Richelle, who were standing next to him, sniggered.

'Oh, come on!' I waved both my hands at them. 'You never sympathize with me. I've got a chronic mathematic decease.'

'Listen, chronic mathematic decease,' Sunny grinned. 'Let's go in. The bell is ringing.'

We came up to the classroom and went through the open door. Brent Howe was standing in the middle of the class and loudly spoke.

'She tells, "Mr Craven, come to my birthday party on Saturday",' he squeaked, obviously imitating Horse's voice. 'And he replies "Sorry, I can't. I have better things to do than to go to a student's birthday party."'

'He replied like that!?' Jenny gasped. 'I can't believe it!'

'Exactly,' Brent went on willingly. 'He said: "invite your sniveling boys. I need a serious and grown up girlfriend.'

'Hey, hey! Hang on!' several girls protested. 'We didn't get it! What girlfriend? Does Mr Craven have a girlfriend?'

'Of course he has,' Brent basked in everyone's attention. 'His girlfriend is Mary's sister. She graduated the university last year and they say that she dates with our Mr Craven. As far as I heard they have a serious relationship!'

'Does Mary know about it?' asked some girls. No one noticed Horsety, who had been standing in the doorway next to me for quite a long time.

'Of course she knows,' Brent nodded. 'Oh, Mary and her sister had such a fight! You should have seen it! Mary almost tore all hair from her poor sister's head.'

'Wow!' 'Great!' 'Awesome!' boys and girls gasped and clapped their hands to their mouths.

'He's lying!' Horsety squealed. 'There's nothing between my sister and Mr Craven! She doesn't even know him! You dirty bastard!' she grabbed a chair and rushed towards Brent.

'Hey, Mary, calm down!' Brent dashed to the door in a panic. 'It was just a joke!'

'I don't care!' Mary was yelling. 'Don't dare to laugh at me and my sister!' she stopped abruptly and threw the chair at Brent.

Brent ducked to the side. The chair, thrown by Horse's powerful hand, flew towards the door. Right at that time Mrs Fenelli, our teacher, came in. 'The maths teacher fell ill,' she began, 'so you'll have science class instead…' at that moment the chair flew past her and crashed into the wall. Her face paled.

'Murders!' she gasped, her eyes rolled and she fainted.

'Mrs Fenelli?' Brent bent over the teacher, who was lying still half in the classroom and half in the hallway. 'Mrs Fenelli? Are you all right?'

She didn't answer. We all crowded around her and stared at each other in dismay.

'Maybe we'd better call the ambulance?' Simon Luper said doubtfully.

'She's breathing,' Liz knelt down, looking close at Mrs Fenelli's face. Liz herself was very pale. As well as most of us. Horse's little joke had backfired well and truly.

'She's so pale,' Jenny whispered anxiously. 'Are you sure that it's just a faint?'

Sunny took the teacher's wrist and felt her pulse. 'Her pulse is quite weak,' she said.'

'We should call the ambulance,' Elmo said firmly. 'Anyone, call the ambulance!'

'No, wait,' Quistok held up his hand. 'Let's drag her into the room and close the door first. Then we'll decide how to revive her. Otherwise someone will see us and we'll be deep in trouble.'

'We _are_ in trouble already,' Nick grumbled.

Everyone uneasily shuffled their feet near the lying teacher, not daring to touch her.

'Come on,' Zane pushed Brent towards Mrs Fenelli. 'Take her!'

'Why me?' Brent protested.

'Oh, come on!' Liz stamped her foot. 'You should do something! She needs medical aid!'

'Keep your shirts on, guys! I know what to do!' Zane ran up to the window, grabbed a watering pot and lavishly poured some water on Mrs Fenelli's pale face. The result was instantaneous. Mrs Fenelli sat upright as if she had been stung.

'Where am I?' she looked at us in bewilderment. 'What happened?'

We all exchanged glances. What could we say to the teacher in this situation?

While we stood there, confused, clustering around her and not knowing what to say, Mrs Fenelli ran her hand over her face and hair.

'Water?' she stared at her wet hand. 'Water? Oh, the pipe burst!' she screamed so suddenly that we all jumped with fear. 'The pipe burst again!' She jumped to her feet and stormed out of the class.

'Do you think she's okay?' Sunny looked doubtfully after her.

'It's difficult to say,' Nick drawled.

'Well, it doesn't matter, does it?' Quistok spread his hands. 'She'll come to herself and run straight to the principal and tell him about us.'

'It's all your fault,' Nick glanced at Zane unfriendly.

'It's not my fault!' Zane had to defend himself. 'It's Mary! It was her who threw that chair at Brent.'

'By the way, I noticed one thing,' I said in a wise tone, 'when you throw chairs, you always hit a wrong target.'

'Oh, never mind! This time I'll hit the _right_ target,' Horse grabbed the chair again.

'Hey, Mary, stop that! Calm down! We've got enough troubles for today!' Liz and Sunny tried to stop her.

'Tell him to apologize for talking rot about me and my sister,' Horsety growled, moving towards Brent with the chair.

'It was just a joke,' Brent laughed loudly.

'You wretch! You beast!' Horsety threw the chair at him.

Athletic and adroit Brent managed to duck from the chair again. The chair crashed to the floor near the door and fell apart.

At that moment the door threw open and Mr Frangelli, the principal, came in. We all dashed to our desks, sat down and stared at him with innocent eyes. The principal looked around us severely, then noticed the broken chair, that was lying on the floor.

'Why broken furniture is lying on the floor?' he asked gravely.

'Horsety sat down on this chair and broke it,' I grinned.

'You're dead, Moysten!' Horse jumped to her feet and rushed towards me.

'Horsety! Take your seat!' Mr Frangelli shouted. Horse reluctantly sat down on her chair.

The rest of us were quiet. I think everyone expected a serious punishment. After all we scared Mrs Fenelli so much that she had fainted, and then Zane poured water on her face.

'I've got a message for you,' Mr Frangelli said. 'We have some difficulties with the timetable. Your first lesson was mathematics, but the teacher fell ill, so we replaced it by science. But Mrs Fenelli had problems at home and had to go home. She said that a pipe burst, or something… Anyway, now you have a free lesson…'

We all began grinning and nudging each other. It seemed that this time we escaped troubles.

'It's not funny,' Mr Frangelli scowled. 'You might sympathize with your teachers.'

'We're very sorry for them, Mr Frangelli,' I grinned widely.

'Looking at you I can't say that you're sorry,' the principal frowned at me.

'Moysten is like a clown,' Nick put in. 'You know, clowns are smiling all the time, even if they're sad.'

'If that so,' Mr Frangelli muttered, 'you all are like clowns then. Okay. You can be free now. But please, be quiet. Other kids are studying, don't bother them. I don't want to receive teachers' complaints about you. And take away the broken chair.'


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4. Richelle's story**

After school we went straight to Craigend. Matron was our constant customer. She often asked us to help with old residents, or with the huge garden, that surrounded Craigend, or to do something else. So it wasn't surprising that she asked us to escort two old women to the graveyard.

'Miss Plummer and Miss Jenkins are ready and waiting for you in the garden,' she said when Liz poke her head round the door of her office. 'Um… I must warn you. This Miss Jenkins is slightly deaf. You have to talk to her as loudly as possible. And please, don't say anything about her deafness. She doesn't like it. Okay, follow me, please.'

We went out into the garden, where Miss Plummer and a tall, skinny woman were sitting on a bench, chattering.

'Miss Jenkins,' Matron said. 'Let me present these young people to you. This is Teen Power Inc. I told you about them, remember? They'll help you.'

'It's very nice of them,' the old woman said flatly.

'Liz and her friends are wonderful boys and girls,' Miss Plummer cooed.

A swarthy woman in a nurse uniform came up to us and handed a handbag to Miss Jenkins.

'Your handbag, Miss Jenkins,' she said.

'Thank you, darling,' the old woman nodded dryly.

I stared secretly at these two women. Miss Jenkins was so elegant and arrogant, tall and wore full make-up. The woman in a nurse uniform was quite the opposite. She was plump, didn't wear make-up at all, her face was bright red and her hair stuck out from under her cap. I felt a strong desire to draw them together. This contrast between them appealed to me.

'This is Sally, our new nurse,' Matron said, noticing me staring at the woman. 'By the way, Sally is my relative. She's a ward of my late sister of my late husband.'

'_Who_?' I shook my head, completely confused in abundance of Matron's late relatives.

'Shut up,' Nick hissed in my ear. 'We'll work it out later.'

'I want to know it right now,' I muttered back. 'I don't understand what she means.'

'Beans? The young man wants to eat some beans?' Miss Jenkins looked up at me. 'You know, young man, I'd like to eat some baked beans, too. Come on,' she stood up. 'On the way we'll drop into a shop to buy a can of baked beans.

'Very good, Miss Jenkins,' the swarthy woman obsequiously cooed. 'Baked beans are good for your health.'

'Come on, dear,' Miss Plummer took Liz's hand. 'Ruby doesn't like it when people are late. I don't want to disappoint her.'

Miss Plummer is a nice old lady, but sometimes she's hard to handle. She's got a very bad memory. I mean she remembers her past quite well, but she often gets confused about the present. I guess today was one of her wafty days, as Liz called them.

'Ruby and I are invited to dinner today,' Miss Plummer went on chattering. 'Why haven't you come earlier?'

'We couldn't come earlier,' Liz mumbled, blushing. 'We've come straight from school.'

'Straight from Spain?' Miss Jenkins exclaimed, flinging her arms into the air. 'Oh, when I was young, I was in Spain with my husband. See, dear,' she turned to Matron and Sally, 'modern high schools send their students to study in Europe.'

'That's amazing! Wonderful! To study in Europe,' Sally agreed with the old woman.

'Madhouse,' Nick muttered. Sunny snorted and dug him in the ribs. I noticed her beginning to quiver with laughter.

'You're right, darling,' Miss Jenkins nodded to Nick. 'There are a lot of madly beautiful houses in Madrid. So, young lady,' she turned to Liz. 'Tell us what you saw in Spain.'

Liz stared at her, not knowing what to say.

'You go,' Matron said, hiding a smile. 'They'll tell you on the way.' It crossed my mind that she was glad to get rid of these two women for a while.

Miss Jenkins slipped her arm through mine and we went towards the gate. Liz with Miss Plummer and the others trailed after us.

###

We'd been wandering to and fro all over the graveyard for about two mortal hours. I couldn't even imagine that people could have so many dead friends. They lingered by every second grave for ten minutes or so, remembering how much this man or woman was wonderful.

The graveyard was isolated from church and everything else by clustering trees and tall bushes. To our happiness, trees created cool shadows, where we could hide from the sun. The graveyard was quiet; there weren't a lot of visitors at this time of day.

During another stop, while the two old women were standing in front of a headstone, looking mourning, we crowded underneath a big tree, enjoying its shadow. We all were tired, thirsty and hungry. I felt as if my legs were about to fall off and my guts were about to stick together with hunger. All what I wanted was eat something. Elmo and Sunny were dreaming about a glass of water.

Nick and Richelle kept whingeing that they were tired and wanted to go home. Liz ordered them to shut up quite rudely. She wasn't in very high spirit either.

'Listen, I can't stand it any more,' I pleaded finally. 'My foot's gone to sleep.'

'It's a wonder that your foot's gone to sleep, not your stomach,' Nick reacted immediately.

'I'd like to eat something,' I sighed. 'Actually I would kill for a hot dog and a glass of juice!'

'Oh, what's that?' Sunny suddenly exclaimed. I looked at her. She was pointing at an odd headstone. It was about fifty paces from us. The headstone was really interesting and weird. It was quite tall, taller than other headstones, and its top was decorated with a big marble pigeon, which spread its wings as though it was about to fly up.

'How beautiful,' Liz gasped. 'Let's come closer to see.'

She and Sunny went towards the grave with the beautiful headstone.

'No, wait!' Richelle called them out. 'Don't even think to come closer to this grave. People say that this grave is cursed.'

'_What_?' Liz and Sunny froze.

'How cursed? Who cursed it?' I stared at Richelle.

'The woman, who is lying there, did,' she replied.

'Rubbish,' Nick snorted.

'No, it's not rubbish,' Richelle insisted. 'That's the truth. I heard some girls at school talked about it. And there was even an article about this grave in a newspaper. If you heard me more attentively, you'd know,' she glanced reproachfully at Nick. 'The reporter, who had written this article, even interviewed the old sexton and his wife.'

'And what did this old sexton and his wife say?' Nick drawled.

'Oh, they said a lot,' Richelle sulkily looked around at us and went silent.

'Tell us then!' I demanded.

'What for?' she shrugged. 'You don't believe, all the same.'

'Oh, come on, Richelle!' Liz exclaimed. 'We want to listen!'

Richelle shook back her hair and unhurriedly smoothed it, making us wait. 'Okay, listen,' she finally put on an important look. 'The sexton said that this woman, who's buried here, was from the city and…'

'From the city? Here?' I opened my eyes wide in amazement.

'Yeah,' Richelle nodded impatiently. 'She was from the city and was buried here. And her lover, too.'

'He was from the city, too or he died, too?' I interrupted again.

'Should I go on?' Richelle angrily stared at me. 'Or maybe _you_ want to tell this story instead of me?'

I grinned. 'I was just asking,' I said.

'You'll be asking when you grow up and start working in the police,' Nick jeered.

'I'm not going to work in the police,' I turned to him, grinning.

'I don't understand,' Sunny giggled. 'Are we listening to Richelle's story or choosing Tom's future profession?'

Nick put his hands around Richelle's waist. 'Go on,' he said into her hair, hiding a smile. 'Who out there was from the city?'

'She was,' she jerked her head towards the grave. 'And her lover was from there too.'

'What's her name?' Liz asked.

'There's no name or surname or date on the tombstone,' Richelle replied. 'There's only one inscription "RIP I love you, my darling". You can read this if you want to, but only from a distance.'

'Why?' Sunny and I asked in chorus.

'Because this grave is cursed,' Richelle repeated for the hundredth time in the past ten minutes.

'Okay, we'll read it later,' Sunny waved her hand desperately. 'Richelle, can you tell us what's wrong with this grave'

'I'm telling you,' Richelle exclaimed. 'She was from the city and her lover was too…'

'Will we go further?' Nick snorted.

'You don't let me tell!' Richelle pouted.

'Okay, it's clear about the city,' Sunny grinned. 'What else?'

'Well, at first they were in love with each other,' Richelle finally began to tell. 'But then he cheated on her with another woman. She told him to get out of her life. Then this guy understood his mistake and came back, intending to beg for forgiveness, but it was too late. She'd already died.'

'And then he died too? And they were buried together forever?' Nick twisted his lips in a sarcastic grin. 'Another sob story for you and Liz.'

Richelle crossly flicked back her long, blonde hair. 'No, he didn't die,' she scowled. 'That is he died, but much later. At first he gave her a splendid funeral, ordered this odd gravestone. But about six months later he was killed. He was blown up in his own car.'

'Blown up in his car?' this tragic love story finally arose Nick's curiosity.

'Yeah,' Richelle nodded. 'In his car. The sexton's wife watched news on TV and recognized the guy. But it's not the end. After that guy had been blown, this woman's brother came here to visit her grave, brought a huge bunch of red roses and told her that her offender was dead.'

'It's an interesting story,' Sunny said. 'But why do you think that the grave is cursed? Such stories happen all the time.'

'Because it's not the end of the story,' Richelle started speaking again. 'In a couple of months another guy started to come here to this woman's grave. He came and brought flowers. Then he came again. And again. And then he suddenly disappeared and no one knew what happened to him until the police had found him in a gully with a hole in his head. When the sexton's wife learnt about it, she immediately realized that he was killed. The marble pigeon from the cursed gravestone pecked him on the head. As she put it, all these deaths happened because this dead lady hadn't forgiven them before dying. And when people die with angriness in their heart, their souls can't rest peacefully. And that's why the grave or other place becomes cursed.'

'That's right,' Liz nodded. 'Why do you think places become haunted?'

'Very funny,' I muttered, trying not to look at the cursed grave any more. I can't say that I believed in this stuff about ghosts and haunted places, but strange things happen all the time, you know. And I'd rather stay away from such places.

'I also heard about this story,' Elmo nodded thoughtfully. 'No, not about the cursed grave,' he added hurriedly, noticing Richelle nodding vigorously. 'I mean I heard about these murders. There was a short article in the Pen about it.'

'It's weird,' Sunny said thoughtfully. 'I wonder what the police think about all these cases.'

'The police say that this second guy just tripped over something, tumbled down into the gully and cracked his head against a sharp stone on the bottom,' Elmo replied. 'But I can assure you that there're no such sharp stones in that gully. I think he also was killed.'

'_I_ think that we should go away from here right now,' Richelle looked sideways at two old women, who were still standing at one of the graves, talking to each other. Unlike Richelle, they didn't seem to want to go at all.

'Liz, you promised that it would take just a couple of hours,' Nick groaned. 'We've been here for about four hours already! I'm tired and I want to go home.'

'Ask them to go then,' Liz snapped.

Waiting for the women, we lazily looked around, but I noticed that no one had desire to come closer to the cursed grave. Even Nick tried not to look in its direction. I sighed and sat down on the ground. Time seemed to stop. My stomach was turning over, demanding some food, my throat was completely dry. I felt as if I was going to die.

Finally the women called us. Miss Plummer said that they were very tired and asked us to take them back to Craigend, what we did with great pleasure.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5. The fight**

Having dropped the two women into Craigend, we went to the nearest cafe. We all were dying of hunger and thirst. For a while we were greedily chewing and drinking in silence, thinking about something personal.

'Oh, come on!' Sunny exclaimed finally. 'Do you really believe in this nonsense about cursed grave?'

'Well I'm not sure about the curse,' Liz replied. 'But there's something wrong with this grave. I can feel it. Two men were murdered after all.'

'It might be just a coincidence,' Nick objected.

'Why then they both went to this grave before death?' I turned to him.

Nick shrugged. 'Hey,' he grinned. 'Don't you think that there are too many dead people for two days?'

'Well, I just hope that there won't be six more dead people,' Richelle muttered, standing up and looking around for her bag. 'Remember my words, we'll be very sorry if we don't forget about this grave.'

'Oh, is that so?' Nick drawled.

'Yes,' Richelle flicked her long hair back. 'And you wait. You'll all wish you'd never even heard of this grave,' she turned to Nick. 'I'm going home now. Are you with me?'

He nodded. We paid for our orders and stood up to go. I lingered at the table, putting change into my wallet, when Liz came up to me.

'I have to walk my dog Christo now,' she said. 'Why don't we walk him together?'

I must have stared at her, because she immediately went pink and mumbled something that she just didn't feel like walking Christo alone.

'Oh sure,' I said. 'I've got nothing better to do anyway.'

She beamed and I felt uncomfortable. We caught up with the others, who'd already gone out of the cafe. Liz said that we were going to the park to walk with Christo. Sunny slightly raised her eyebrows and glanced at me in surprise. I felt my cheeks flush bright red. Her face was as calm as ever, but it crossed my mind that she didn't like it. But of course she didn't say anything, just said goodbye and went home.

Richelle and Nick sauntered off in the opposite direction. Elmo also decided to go home. He usually spends his spare time in the Pen, but today he had a lot of homework to do.

Liz and I collected Christo from Liz's house and went to the park. There we let him off the lead and sat down on a bench. For a while we sat in awkward silence, watching Christo running around. At last Liz looked up at me.

'I heard you had problems with Brian because of the guys' trip,' she said.

'Yeah,' I shrugged. 'I always have problems with Brian, you know.'

Silence again.

'Sunny has gym competition next weekend,' Liz said. 'I think we can go there and support her.'

'Good idea,' I agreed. 'I'd like to go.'

Silence again. Our talk came to nothing. I was completely stuck for words, what was unusual for me. Usually when I'm embarrassed, I crack jokes endlessly to hide my real state. But that day I watched Christo running around the park after pigeons, trying hard to think of something to say. Liz also looked at Christo, twisting his lead in her hands. I just could feel this tension raising between us.

'I still think that that grave is strange,' Liz broke the silence. 'No names, no dates, just only one inscription. "RIP I love you, my darling". I think it's weird.'

'Not so weird as you think,' I objected. 'Maybe the woman wanted to be buried like that. As you know some people ask to cremate their bodies, instead of burying, and scatter the ashes; or leave their body to science, or ask to do with their dead body something else.'

'Oh wow,' Liz raised her eyebrows in surprise. 'I didn't know that.'

We sat in silence for a while.

'So you think that it's normal when a grave is without name,' Liz started speaking again.

'Maybe it's not normal, but it's at least explainable,' I shrugged. 'After all, this woman could go insane because of unrequited love.'

'Or that guy, who'd cheated on her, went insane,' Liz always loved such tragic love stories. 'And he decided to make this odd tombstone for her.'

'And then another her admirer resolved to make that guy pay for her death and planted a bomb into his car,' I winked at Liz. She smiled. For the first time since we parted with the others.

'So you think that this story about cursed grave is just a stupid tale?' she asked.

'Who knows,' I shrugged.

At this moment Liz's new cell phone buzzed. Liz pulled it out of her bag. 'It's Elmo,' she said to me, looking at the display. 'Hi Elmo,' she said into the phone. '_What_?.. Oh, sure, we'll be there soon… Okay… Okay, bye…' she hung up and looked at me, puzzled. 'Elmo asked us to go to his place as soon as possible. His Shadow caught an odd pigeon.'

'Odd pigeon?' I repeated in surprise. 'What did he mean?'

'I don't know,' Liz shrugged. 'He says that this pigeon doesn't look like other pigeons, which we can see on the streets. And he said that the pigeon was seriously injured, and asked us to hurry. Sunny's already on her way there.'

'Okay,' I stood up. 'But we have to take Christo home first.'

'We have no time for that,' Liz objected. 'Christo'll go with us. Christo!' she yelled ear-piercingly. 'Christo! Come here!'

Christo took no notice of her as usual. So we spent about ten minutes running after him all over the park. Finally we managed to catch him, and ran towards the street. Christo didn't like it at all. He glanced at us disapprovingly, making clear that he hadn't finished his deals yet. Maybe that was why he stopped at every bush and tree, or stuck his nose into everything, or tried to make friends with every dog we met. Liz and I had to almost drag him forward.

At last we went out of the park and strode down Craigend Road. We turned right, walked past shops and rounded the bank. Then we finally crossed the street and turned into the street where Elmo lived. There Christo obviously decided to go on strike, because he abruptly stopped and calmly lay down on the sidewalk.

'Stand up!' Liz shouted at him. Christo pretended that he didn't hear her words. 'I told you to stand up!' Liz pulled at the lead with all her strength. But Christo took no notice of her.

'Do I have to make you stand up by a truck?' Liz cried angrily, hauling at his collar.

The dog seemed to think. Then he reluctantly got up. I guess he didn't want to get acquainted with a truck. He slightly waved with his tail and let us drag him further. But hardly had we gone about twenty meters when Christo saw a cat. He joyfully barked and leaped towards the cat. The lead flew out of Liz's hands. I barely managed to catch it in midair.

'Oh wow! You've caught it,' Liz babbled admiringly. I didn't say anything, just reached down and fumbled through Christo's hair until I found his collar. I grabbed it and hauled him forward.

Finally we came hurrying up to Elmo's house. Liz pressed the doorbell. The door threw open instantly. Elmo was standing in the doorway. He didn't look pleased at all.

'Where have you been?' he asked reproachfully.

'We had some problems…' I began to explain.

'What's that?' Elmo interrupted me, pointing with his eyes at Christo.

'It's Christo,' I grinned. 'Liz's dog.'

'You know, I can see that it's not a donkey,' Elmo frowned.

'Sometimes it seems to me that it's a donkey, not a dog,' I sighed.

'You can't come inside with a dog,' Elmo protested firmly. 'You know that my Shadow hates dogs!'

'But it was you who told us to come here as soon as possible,' Liz objected. 'Where were we supposed to leave him?'

'Okay,' Elmo said after a pause. 'We'll leave him here. You can tie him to that tree.'

Liz looked offended. As for Christo, he seemed to like the idea to stay outside. At least he easily let Liz tie him to the tree, and lay down on the grass, putting his head onto his paws.

'What happened,' I asked Elmo, while Liz was tying Christo.

'Shadow caught a pigeon,' he replied.

'And ate it?' I asked again.

'If she ate it, there wouldn't be any problem,' Elmo frowned. 'Shadow seized its wing, and at that moment I interfered and saved the pigeon. But I don't know what to do with him now. I think it's a high-bred pigeon. It's completely white, like snow. And it's not like those plain pigeons we can see on the streets and squares. I'd say it distinguishes from them as a canary distinguishes from a mule!'

'I don't understand,' I snorted. 'Does this pigeon look like a canary or like a mule?'

'Silly and not witty,' Elmo snapped. 'I'm telling you, it's a really cool bird.'

'Cool bird? Maybe it has got a cell phone under its wing?' I went on jeering. 'Or a thick gold chain on its neck and a diamond seal ring on its claw?'

'It hasn't got a phone or a chain,' Elmo replied seriously. 'But yes, it has got a ring with a capsule, bound to it.'

'Did you look inside?' I asked eagerly.

'I couldn't,' Elmo frowned. 'The pigeon crawls around the living room, with his injured wing raised, and looks at me with hatred, and when I try to take him, he growls.'

'Growls? Maybe it's not a cool pigeon at all, probably it's a cool dog,' I laughed. 'A brand new model of a dog with wings, specially designed for rich people.'

'Not funny,' Elmo pouted. 'Come in and see it for yourself.'

'Hey! Wait!' I heard an exclamation from behind and turned round to see Sunny, who was walking hastily towards us, dragging a huge cage, in which, as I thought, a mountain eagle would feel comfortable.

'Hey, Sunny, this cage is big enough to fit you in,' I giggled.

'It's my great-grandmother's,' she smiled. 'Her parrot, who'd lived here, died a few weeks ago.'

At this moment I heard a savage hiss. I looked down and saw Shadow, who was standing in the doorway and looking at Christo, her back arched. She was threateningly hissing. Every line of her body was yelling about sacred and inviolable rights to Zimmer's house with all its property and garden.

Christo, quite the opposite, took no notice of her. He lazily snapped at a fly and put his head on this paws again.

'Shadow can't stand dogs,' Elmo explained. 'I'd better lock her in my room.'

He picked her up and ran upstairs. Liz, Sunny and I came into the living room. A completely white pigeon sat on the floor, looking at us fearfully. One of his wings was stuck out.

'Is it him?' I pointed at the bird.

'Do you see another pigeon,' Sunny grinned.

'Poor little thing,' Liz tried to come closer to the wounded bird. But once she made a step towards him, the pigeon jerked and started staggering around the room, growling indignantly.

'Elmo was right, this bird is really high-bred,' I said importantly. 'Street pigeons just coo everywhere, and that's all. But this one growls like a little dog.'

'We'd better catch him and bring him to a vet,' Sunny said thoughtfully.

'His wing is bleeding,' said Elmo, who'd already returned into the living room and was standing behind us. 'And one of his eyes is too dim. I think we'd better hurry.'

Having staggered around the room, the pigeon had stopped in a corner and now was looking at us very unfriendly. Sunny opened a door of the cage and put it down on the floor in front of the pigeon. But the bird just staggered backward until it hit the wall.

'Let's put some meal into the cage,' I suggested.

'Tom, maybe you're ready to go into a cage for a piece of something eatable,' Sunny giggled. 'But it doesn't mean that the pigeon will do the same.'

'Why not?' I shrugged. 'All alive creatures must eat. Elmo,' I turned to him, 'how long has he been sitting here?'

'For about two hours,' Elmo replied.

'See?' I exclaimed. 'This bird didn't eat at least during two hours! I'm sure he's hungry. More than that, I'm sure that he'll start to bite the furniture soon! So, Elmo, bring something to eat!' I demanded.

'For the pigeon or for you?' he grinned.

'For both of us,' I really started to feel first signs of hunger.

'I'll bring some bread,' Elmo went towards the kitchen.

'Hey, it's not a plain street bird to eat bread crumbs,' I was offended about the high-bred bird. 'Bring biscuits. I saw coconut ones in your cupboard yesterday!'

During this conversation the pigeon sat in the corner, gingerly looking at us in arrogant bewilderment.

Right at that moment there was an ear-piercing wail from the outside. We glanced at one another and dashed to the door, nearly knocking each other from our feet. I grabbed the door handle and twisted it.

'No, wait!' Elmo yelled.

But it was too late. I'd already opened the door. It was enough for Christo to rush in, a piece of broken lead dragged behind him. Shadow, like a true equestrienne, rode on Christo's back, fluffing up her brown fur and holding her tail up.

Elmo made an effort to catch them. He jumped and tried to catch Christo's rear paws, but failed. Christo and Shadow rushed past us, Elmo tripped over them and bumped into me. I obediently fell down onto a coffee table. There was a pile of papers on this coffee table, which blew like huge snowflakes all over the room.

Christo and his fearless equestrienne ran circling the living room, both were yelling loudly. Although they were yelling in different ways. Shadow was giving out victorious cries. As for Christo, he evidently begged for mercy.

'Pigeon!' Liz yelled. 'Save the pigeon!'

Having seen two lovely animals, the pigeon gathered his last strength and flew onto a chandelier. Landing on it, he overthrew several decorative crystals, which rained onto the equestrienne's head, who was prancing on her mettled steed around the living room at that moment.

But what do several decorative crystals mean for a true warrior? Shadow didn't even pay any attention to them. She was too busy solving a problem. There were two enemies on her territory now. For a moment she almost went out of her mind, trying to decide whether she'd rather keep struggling with Christo or chase the pigeon. Then she probably decided that the pigeon wasn't able to go far, and dug her claws into Christo's back. He squealed.

'Shadow!' Elmo shouted.

'Pigeon!' the girls were yelling.

Christo, trying to get rid of his enemy, lay down and started rolling on the floor, hoping to shake Shadow off his back. But Shadow was much more adroit. She jumped off her enemy's back and attacked him from the front, driving her claws into Christo's nose.

He squealed, and half blinded with pain, he abruptly spun around and darted into the hallway. Valiant Shadow obviously wasn't going to let her enemy run away. She managed to stay on Christo's back, clutching at him with all her four paws.

Right at that moment the front door opened and Zim, Elmo's father, came in, smiling. He held two big paper bags with food stuff in both hands.

'Elmo, I decided…' he began, but had to break off, because a woolen ball ran into him and knocked him down. Zim crashed to the floor. Paper bags dropped from his hands and tore; food stuff scattered all over the floor. Christo tripped over Zim and sprawled on him, like a big alive carpet. Shadow, who obviously didn't expect such an abrupt stop, let go of Christo's head and flew over him. But she obviously was one of those cats, who didn't give up at the first failure. She immediately jumped to her paws and got her claws into the first part of body, which she saw.

To her misfortune, this part of body didn't belong to Christo. This part of body was Zim's head. He yelled. We rushed to help him. Sunny and I had some trouble in hauling Christo off Elmo's father. Christo was still lying on Zim and didn't want to get up. Elmo, meanwhile, was untangling Shadow out from Zim's thick curly hair. But Shadow obviously still was in the full conviction that she was struggling with the dog, and didn't want to let go of Zim's hair.

'I know what to do,' I mumbled. I rushed to the kitchen, filled a big saucepan with water, dragged it back to the battle field and poured all water on Zim's head.

It worked. Instantly Shadow squealed and let go of Zim's head. The next moment Elmo grabbed her and ran upstairs, probably intending to lock this noble warrior in his bedroom or somewhere else till things go better.

Liz helped Zim to sit up. 'Zim, do you want some water or something?' she asked anxiously.

'Thank you,' Zim replied in a very unfriendly voice. 'I've had enough water. What's going on here?'

'Christo, Liz's dog, and Shadow had a fight,' I explained.

'I wonder how she managed to go out,' Sunny said. 'Elmo locked her in his room.'

'I guess she climbed out through the window,' Elmo had already returned to us. 'The window in my room was open.'

Zim went on rolling his eyes in bewilderment. 'Can someone explain what's going on here?' he groaned again.

'Shadow caught a pigeon and injured him,' Elmo began to explain. 'I called the others and they came here with Christo…'

'The pigeon!' Sunny interrupted him. 'Where's the pigeon!'

We left Zim sitting on the floor among scattered food stuff and rushed into the living room. But the pigeon wasn't there.

'Where's he?' we looked around the room.

'I think Shadow ate him after all,' Liz said sadly. 'Poor pigeon.'

'If she ate him, there would be blood or feathers or other remains,' I doubted.

'Look. There he is,' Sunny laughed, pointing at the cage. I glanced there. The door of the cage was opened. The pigeon sat inside, looking sideways at us distrustfully.

'I think that he's pretending,' I said. 'Did you see how quickly he flew up on the chandelier?' I bent down and picked up some decorative crystals from the floor, which had fallen during the fight. 'I think that this pigeon just wants to live for a while in a normal human house, pretending to be sick.'

'Do you think that he wants to live together with a nice cat?' Sunny grinned.

'Don't touch my Shadow,' Elmo objected in an injured tone. 'Cats and dogs dislike each other. That's their nature. Everyone knows that.'

'Besides,' I grinned, 'how would the pigeon know that a cat lives here. When he found it out, it was too late.'

'Listen to me, dear friends,' Zim came into the room, looking at us severely. 'Take your dogs and birds away from here. I've had enough for today.'

'Look, we're leaving, dad,' Elmo said quickly.

We grabbed the cage with the pigeon and Christo's collar, and went out. The evening was warm. In the sun the pigeon seemed even whiter than he was in the room. In open air he cheered up a little and started grumbling something. We stared at him and at each other.

'So, what are we going to do with him?' Liz asked. 'Does anyone knows a good vet?'

Suddenly a great idea came into my mind. The idea that led us to great troubles later. But that day it seemed to be the best idea. 'I know someone better' I yelled. 'Elmo you said that that guy, John or something, you'd met in the train, bred pigeons. It must be his pigeon! Or at least he must know how to cure him.'

'But we don't know where he lives,' Elmo said doubtfully. 'He said that he lived on the outskirts of Raven Hill. That's all what we know.'

'We can go around the outskirts of Raven Hill,' Sunny didn't see any difficulties. 'We can ask people. I'm sure that we'll find him in the end. Raven Hill isn't very big.'

Liz glanced at her watch. 'It's too late to go now,' she said doubtfully. 'We won't find him today. We'd better go tomorrow after school. But someone has to look after him today.'

'I can't leave him here,' Elmo said quickly. 'Shadow won't leave him alone. What about you, Tom?'

'I'd love to,' I shook my head. 'But you know how Brian feels about animals in home. Besides, he's still angry with me because of your so-called hike.'

'I can't take him either,' Liz added. 'Not while I've got Christo. He'd swallow this pigeon in one gulp. How do you think if Nick or Richelle want to take him for one night?'

'You must be joking,' Sunny laughed. 'Okay,' she sighed. 'I'll take him. Maybe Mum will be able to help him.'

After that we separated. Elmo went off home. Liz and I helped Sunny to drag the cage with the pigeon to her house. Then I walked Liz home.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6. Bad dream**

I was late for dinner. When I came home, Brian, Mum and the boys were sitting in the kitchen, having dinner.

'Where have you been?' Brian asked me sternly. 'It's very late.'

'I was with my friends,' I replied vaguely. I wasn't in the mood to discuss my deals with him.

But Brian obviously had another opinion about that. Besides, he must have been told what had happened at school, because during dinner he talked on and on about me, mostly focusing on my irresponsible behaviour, and saying that if I kept living like that, I would end up being killed by criminals in a dark corner.

I was silent, trying to keep myself calm and not to say anything, I would regret. When Brian started lecturing, it'd better be quiet. Mum and the boys didn't say a word either. They didn't want Brian to turn his angriness upon them.

In the middle of dinner the phone rang. It was Elmo.

'Tom, I've just had a call from Nick,' he began as soon as I answered.

'Not now,' I murmured, feeling Brian heavily staring at me.

'Hang on,' Elmo interrupted me. 'Listen. Nick said that Richelle had lost her apple charm on the graveyard and they returned there to look for it.'

'So?' I put in impatiently.

'So they found her apple charm in the end. It was lying not far from that odd grave,' Elmo went on excitedly. 'And they noticed a man in expensive, well-cut suit there. Well, that's what Richelle said.'

'Trust Richelle to be checking designer clothes even in the graveyard,' I snorted.

'Yeah,' Elmo said impatiently. 'Nick said that this man was standing on his knees in front of the grave, but once he noticed them, he immediately stood up and hurried away.'

'Why?' I demanded.

'How would I know?' Elmo replied. 'But Nick said that he'd had a feeling that this man was afraid of something.'

I noticed that Brian was looking at me with annoyance. 'Okay, Elmo, let's talk later,' I mumbled into the phone. 'Maybe tomorrow. We're having dinner.'

'Oh, I see,' Elmo snorted and hung up.

I put the phone down and returned at the table. Brian went on lecturing till the end of dinner, but I didn't listen to him. I was thinking about that odd grave. For some reason it attracted our attention. It seemed to me that it was something strange about this grave.

Much later I understood that I should have listened to my intuition.

###

I opened the window in my room, feeling the cool wind bursting into the room. I took a deep breath and crawled into bed, pulling up my quilt. I liked to sleep in a cool room. I was lying in my bed, looking through the window at the dark sky. The full moon shone through the window, round and silvery, illuminating my room with bluish light. I could hear Mum and Brian talking downstairs in muffled voices. Adam and Jonathon quietly giggled in their rooms.

I closed my eyes. I was starting to regret that I'd agreed to go for a walk with Liz and Christo. Not because of events that had happened later in Elmo's house, but because of Liz herself. I couldn't forget that glance and smile, she'd given to me before saying goodbye. I didn't want Liz to think that it was something more than just a plain walk with her and her dog. Liz is a very nice and pretty girl, but I don't have feelings to her.

And I couldn't forget Sunny's astonished glance when I'd told that I was going to go for a walk with Liz. I didn't want Sunny to think that there was something between me and Liz. I like Sunny. I really do. Or maybe I should use the word "love", not "like", to describe my feelings? She'd been my closest friend for years. She'd been my closest friend even before I realized that. And I don't know when this something happened and I started to feel that she was more than just a friend for me. I don't know when I stopped looking upon her as my friend and started looking upon her as a girl. But one day, one sunny summer day, I acutely realized that I felt this weakness inside when Sunny was close to me; I realized that I felt this emptiness inside when she was far away. I realized that I dreamt about her every single night, and that I was going mad when she went out with a good-looking, athletic guy from the gym. And I always began cracking jokes and fooling around, trying to hide my state. I wasn't sure that a girl like Sunny would want to date with a guy like me.

Sunny is beautiful and successful. Of course she's not so beautiful as Richelle. I mean she's not so glamorous and sweet. She's strong, she's got a decent athletic body, pretty face and very beautiful smile. I heard what guys talked about her at school, some of them even invited her to go out, but their relationships never lasted long. The most important thing for Sunny is sport. She likes to spend time with her friends from the gym, and I don't know if she is in love with someone. I wished she was in love with me, but I didn't dare to say this aloud. Every single morning I convinced myself that I would tell her about my feelings, and every single evening I cursed myself that I hadn't done anything again.

I sighed and turned over on the other side. Tomorrow will come soon, I thought. In about ten hours I will see her again.

Suddenly I heard a quiet snarl from somewhere underneath. I froze. Snarl? But there's no any animal in my house. I carefully leant over the edge of the bed and started back in horror. The injured pigeon, Elmo had found in his yard, was lying near my bed. But he wasn't injured now. He looked more like a stone pigeon or something. His head and wings glinted in the moonlight. He seemed very familiar to me.

It's the marble pigeon from that grave, an awful thought crossed my mind.

I crawled as far as possible from the edge of the bed and clutched at the quilt. There was another snarl. The glow was too attractive, I couldn't resist it. I leant over the edge of the bed again. The stone pigeon didn't move, just kept growling threateningly.

We shouldn't have taken him, I felt tardy repentance.

The glow became brighter. Now I could clearly see everything in my room.

'You're right. You shouldn't have done this,' suddenly the pigeon snarled. 'You, people, often do such stupid things.'

Silence. I couldn't take my eyes off the stone pigeon. 'Why is he here?' suddenly a stupid question came into my mind. 'Sunny took that pigeon to her place.'

'It doesn't matter now,' the pigeon snarled immediately.

'Where's Sunny?' I started to worry.

'It's too late to ask,' the pigeon replied.

'Why too late?' I whispered. I felt an unpleasant presentiment clutch at my heart.

The pigeon didn't answer. Its wings began moving. Suddenly the pigeon started to grow up. Now a gravestone with the marble pigeon on the top was slowly raising beside my bed.

I wanted to run very very far from this place, but my legs didn't move. I froze in this awkward position, leaning over the edge of the bed. Now the gravestone was standing in front of me. The pigeon was sitting on the top and looking at me with pity. Then it spread its wings, flew off the pedestal and rushed to me.

'Help!' I roared as loudly as I could and sat bolt upright in my bed.

My heart was pounding like a drum. I looked around in panic. I was alone in my room, there wasn't any gravestone, or marble pigeon, or anything else. I fall back on the pillow and closed my eyes.

What a stupid dream, I thought.

At that moment the door flew open and Brian and Mum burst into the room. Mum looked startled. Brian looked furious. His hair was tousled.

'Tom! What happened?' Mum asked, sitting down on my bed. 'Why did you shout?'

'Me?' I still couldn't pull myself together.

'You,' Brian said with annoyance. 'You perfectly know that I suffer from insomnia. I have to drink this stupid sleeping draught. And once I fell asleep, you immediately woke me up!'

'I had a bad dream,' I mumbled.

'He had a bad dream,' Brian repeated crossly. 'Your bad dream ensured a sleepless, torturing night for me.'

'Sorry,' I said tiredly.

'You should less hang out with your friends till the late evening and pay more attention to your study,' Brian went on. 'Then you wouldn't have bad dreams. When I was in your age, I always came home by dinner and didn't hang out with loafers at night. And I didn't have bad dreams.'

'Brian,' Mum sighed. 'Everything's okay. Let's go back to bed. You can take one more pill of sleeping draught…'

'One more pill!' Brian exploded. 'He can wake me up in the dead of night and I have to take more pills? Because of someone's bad dreams I have to poison myself with sleeping draught? If he paid more attention to study, he wouldn't have bad dreams and would sleep quietly, and I wouldn't have to poison myself like Marilyn Monroe!'

'Brian, what has Marilyn Monroe to do with you?' Mum sighed again.

'As if you don't know!' Brian exclaimed pointing first at her, and then at me.

'I didn't ask you about Marilyn Monroe,' I put in hastily.

'So I'll answer only to you,' he stretched out his hands towards Mum. 'Marilyn Monroe swallowed a handful of sleeping draught and joined the majority. I don't want to end up like this! I want to live! So I refuse to take more than one pill of sleeping draught a day!'

I yawned. I just couldn't help myself.

'Come on, Brian,' Mum said, noticing that. 'Tom wants to sleep.'

'Let him sleep if he wants to,' Brian replied, suddenly submitting to his fate. 'He's yawning. He will be sleeping,' he added dejectedly. 'But I, instead of sleeping, will have to toss in my bed with insomnia. And then, in the morning, I will have to drive, by the way,' he suddenly yawned widely.

'Come on,' Mum pushed him to the door.

They went out of the room and softly closed the door. I could hear their muffled voices for a while. Then there was complete silence. Brian must have fallen asleep. He never could tolerate his insomnia on his own. If he couldn't fall asleep, he began talking with Mum, or noisily sighed and turned over from one side to another. Or he got up and loudly tramped to the kitchen to drink some water, or went to the boys' room to look at Adam and Jonathon. After that he returned to bed and for some reason was overcome by a fit of coughing. Although, he himself, was in the full conviction that he struggled with his problems on his own, patiently trying not to disturb the others' rest.

But this time it was just the other way around. I was wide awake. I had a feeling that this dream meant something bad.

I tossed and turned in my bed all night long. From time to time I dropped into a sort of doze, and had strange dreams. In the early hours of the morning I must have fallen into a deeper sleep, because my alarm clock woke me up in the middle of another dream, when I rescued Sunny from criminals' paws.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7. John, the pigeon fancier**

The next morning I met the others at the school gates.

'So?' Elmo demanded as soon as I came up to them. 'I mean that guy, who was on the grave with the pigeon and who ran away once he saw Nick and Richelle.'

'I think that it's very strange,' I said importantly.

'A very clever remark,' Nick snorted.

Trying my best to ignore him, I told them about my dream. Nick, Elmo and Sunny took it quite indifferently. But Liz and Richelle looked really startled.

'I told you,' Richelle whispered, opening her eyes wide. 'We'd better forget about this grave!'

'Oh, come on, it's just a dream,' Nick waved his hand impatiently. 'Listen,' he went on, his eyes alive with curiosity, 'I think that we should find out something about this grave. We can ask the sexton, who gave that interview, for example.'

'Nick, today we have to find your mate from the train and pass the pigeon to him,' Sunny objected. 'I'm not going to keep it in my house any more. Besides, he needs a medical care. Mum tried to dress his wing, but he didn't even let her come close.'

'Okay,' Nick agreed. 'We can go to the graveyard after that.'

'All what we can do now is go to school,' Elmo went towards the school building. 'The bell will ring soon. You know Mr Larson doesn't like it when students are late.'

###

After lessons we raced to Sunny's house to take the cage and then started wandering around the outskirts of Raven Hill, looking for John's house.

'If this pigeon is really high-bred we should demand a reward,' Nick kept saying. 'Such high-bred pigeons don't lie on a road.'

'In this case he was lying in Elmo's garden,' I objected immediately. 'So we can say that he was lying on a road.'

'It doesn't matter,' Nick replied. 'We saved this pigeon from the cat. We saved his life. So we should receive something for that.'

'Oh, you're so boring,' I sighed.

'At least I'm not so foolish,' Nick snapped.

'Stop fighting,' Liz pleaded. 'Nick, Elmo, please, try to remember what this John said about his house.'

'He said that…' Nick began.

'His house isn't far,' Elmo interrupted him. 'Look over there.' He pointed up at the sky.

We all raised our heads and saw a flock of pigeons. Most of them were white.

'Maybe our pigeon is from there, too,' Liz said in a low voice. 'Maybe he was flying with the rest of them, but then something happened to him?'

'The pigeon loft must be somewhere not far from here,' Elmo said. 'Look around attentively.'

He was right. Fifteen minutes later Sunny pointed at a big, genteel, old-fashioned house with an annex for pigeons.

'It must be here,' Sunny said.

The pigeon in the cage began to grumble something, probably agreeing with her, or maybe sharing with us unpleasant memories about the nasty cat.

Liz opened the gate and we went along the path towards the door. The house was surrounded by a nice garden with green lawn. Liz pressed the doorbell. The door immediately threw open as if the owner was standing right behind it. A man of about forty in a gray shirt and dark jeans was standing in the doorway and looking at us with astonishment.

'Hello,' Nick said, moving forward. 'We met in the train two days ago. Remember?'

'Of course I remember,' the man grinned. 'Nick and Elmo? Right?'

'Right,' Nick nodded. 'This is our friends. Liz, Richelle, Sunny and Tom.'

The man stared at us with interest.

'John,' Nick went on, 'you told us that you bred pigeons. That's why we decided that you could help us.'

'We've got an injured pigeon,' Liz put in. 'Maybe he's yours?'

Elmo with an obvious effort raised the huge cage for the man to look at it closer. 'My cat caught him,' he explained.

John leant towards the cage, looking closely at the bird.

'We think this pigeon is high-bred,' Elmo said. 'And there's a capsule on his claw.'

'I see,' the man went on examining the pigeon. 'You're right. The pigeon is high-bred.'

'Is he yours?' Liz asked.

'No,' the man shook his head. 'But I think I'll easily find his owner.'

'But you can cure his wing, can't you?' Liz asked anxiously.

'Of course I can,' the man nodded. 'Don't worry, dear. He's okay. I don't think that his wing is seriously injured. I'll quickly cure it.'

'All the same we should see what's in this capsule,' I put in. 'There may be his owner's address or some important information for the owner.'

'Didn't you open it?' John looked at us attentively.

'We tried, but the pigeon didn't let us even come closer to him,' Elmo replied.

'Very good,' the man nodded with obvious relief. Then he glanced at his watch and picturesquely clutched at his head with both hands. 'I have to go now,' he said quickly, nervously looking back over his shoulder.

'We have to return the cage to its owner,' Sunny said.

'Sure,' the man nodded hastily. 'Look. Come here in a couple of days, I'll give you back your cage. Okay? But now I really have to go.'

'Sure,' we nodded.

The next moment the door shut in front of our noses. We exchanged glances.

'Come on! I want to see that grave again,' Nick recovered first.

###

It took us about twenty minutes to reach the graveyard and to find the strange grave with the marble pigeon. But when we came closer, we saw a man standing beside the gravestone.

'Go past him, act normal,' Elmo hissed to us.

But this trick failed. Once the man heard our steps, he immediately turned round and went in the opposite direction and soon disappeared out of sight.

We glanced at each other. I can say for sure that at that moment everyone was thinking about one and the same things. Why do all visitors of this grave run away as soon as they see someone? We stopped about twenty meters from the grave, looking at it.

'I don't think that we should go to this grave,' I mumbled, remembering my dream. 'This grave gives me the creeps.'

'Tom's right,' Richelle whispered, looking around with fear. 'There's something spooky about this grave. Besides this dream…'

'Let's come closer to see,' Nick interrupted her, his black eyes alive with curiosity.

Oh no, I thought. Don't do that, Nick! Don't dare.

'Are you going to come up to the _cursed_ _grave_?' Richelle cried in horror, as if Nick suggested dropping in the hell.

'Nick's right,' Elmo nodded. 'We should see what's there. Otherwise we'll never understand what's been going on here.'

'You mustn't come to the cursed grave,' Richelle cried, her face pale as a piece of paper. 'If you come, you'll be very sorry! The curse will fall upon you! And upon the rest of us!' She grabbed Nick's hand. 'Don't go,' she said firmly.

'Nick, don't go, please,' Liz pleaded, looking anxiously at Richelle. 'There's no need in it. I know you don't believe in paranormal, but strange things happen all the time, you know.'

Nick hesitated.

'Look, we've come here to find out who was buried here,' Sunny said calmly. 'So let's do what we were going to do.'

'Okay,' Nick gave up. Then he glanced at the grave again and, taking Richelle's hand, turned round, heading for the sexton's office. The rest of us trailed after them.

###

The sexton's office turned out to be a small, nice house behind the church. We came up to the door, but the door opened before we knocked. A man of fifty or so, in a dirty singlet and old jeans stood in the doorway and looked at us suspiciously.

'Do you have questions to me?' he asked severely and rubbed the grey stubble on his chin.

'Yes, we have,' Nick nodded.

'Speak,' the man said and noisily blew his nose without using a handkerchief.

Richelle wrinkled her nose in disgust and looked away.

'What's wrong with her?' the sexton asked in sincere astonishment.

'She can't take her eyes from the graveyard,' I grinned. 'She's admiring it. Your graveyard is so beautiful.'

'Yeah, this is a model graveyard,' the sexton seemed to be pleased with my words. 'I do my best to keep it in order. Even big people from the city want to have a grave here.'

'Like that woman, who was buried in the grave with the marble pigeon,' I tried to turn the conversation into the right turn.

'Oh, listen to my advice,' the sexton started to rub his chin again, 'keep away from that grave.'

'Why?' Liz asked.

'Because the grave is cursed,' the sexton replied. 'Anyone who comes close to this grave ends up dying under strange circumstances.'

'Nonsense,' Sunny snorted.

'Come here after midnight, young lady,' the sexton glanced at her slyly, 'then you'll see… For example a couple of nights ago I made my usual round at night. It was about an hour after midnight. So I slowly wandered, looking around for breakers and suddenly came across that woman's lover.'

'Who was blown up in his car?' Richelle gasped.

'That's right,' the sexton nodded. 'He smiled at me softly. I tried my best to keep going ahead and when I looked back to see, he wasn't there.'

'Wow,' Richelle gasped, clapping her hand to her mouth.

'It's "wow" for you, young lady,' the sexton frowned. 'As for me, I almost had a heart attack.'

'I can understand,' I shivered. I could imagine what I'd feel if I had that experience.

'You know, it was a very luxurious funeral,' the sexton went on. 'People were so good-dressed and impressive-looking. Their huge, luxury cars occupied almost the whole parking lot. Four men were carrying the splendid black casket. And flowers… only dark red roses. They put at least fifteen bunch of flowers on the grave. Or maybe even more.

'So luxurious funeral,' Nick put in cajolingly. 'This woman must have been an important person. But they didn't even write her name on the tombstone.'

'I said the same to Mr Donner, it's the man, who was in love with this woman,' the sexton replied. 'I told him that decedent's name and dates of birth and death should be perpetuated. But Mr Donner kept saying "Will of my poor lady, will of my poor lady. It's all my fault. I killed her by my betrayal. So let it be the way she wanted."'

'But you must know her name,' Nick said. 'Can you tell us?'

'What for?' the sexton's eyes narrowed as he glanced at Nick suspiciously. 'Do you remember my advice? Keep away from this grave.'

'But we just think that it's wrong that this poor woman is nameless,' Nick looked at him with innocent eyes.

'Yeah,' I muttered with a mourning expression on my face. 'We think that this woman's name should remain at least in our memory.'

'I see you, mate, understand such things,' the sexton glanced at me respectfully.

'He's a future historian,' Nick put in immediately.

'You know, mate, I always wanted to be a history teacher,' the grim sexton smiled unexpectedly softly at me. 'But sometimes life makes things happen in spite of our desires.'

'Tom, as a future historian, thinks that people shouldn't forget anyone,' Nick said, trying to satisfy the grim sexton.

He seemed to be successful in it. The old sexton was becoming more and more respectful to me. 'You're right, mate,' he beamed at me. 'I like your principles.'

'He even keeps a special catalogue,' Nick went on lying with inspiration.

'What catalogue?' I stared at him.

'Oh, you're a real future scientist!' Nick threw up his hands theatrically. 'He forgets everything all the time!' he said confidentially to the sexton. Then he gave me a meaningful glance. 'You've got a great catalogue of names of people you know for your future research book!'

'Oh, you mean this one,' I finally understood what he meant.

'And what do you write in this catalogue?' the sexton asked.

'Um…I…' I glanced inquiringly at Nick.

'Names, surnames, interesting facts from life and dates of birth and death of all people he knows,' Nick said hastily.

'Did all people you know die?' the sexton stared at me with interest.

'No! No! Not at all!' I waved my hands in horror.

'But how can you know their dates of death?' the sexton raised his eyebrows.

'He leaves a space for this information so that he can add it later,' Nick explained, managing to keep his face very serious. I heard Sunny give a snort of laughter and ducked behind my back. Richelle, quite the opposite, was bright red with embarrassment.

'That's very farsighted, you know,' the sexton approved my nonexistent catalogue. 'You know, mate, some clever people even buy graves and tombstones in advance.'

'Tom wants to place you on his catalogue, Mr…' Nick said.

'Mr Haily,' said the old sexton. 'Sure,' he nodded to me, very pleased. 'Write down, historian,' he said.

'I don't have a pen and paper to write,' I spread my hands.

'Okay, wait here, I'll bring something,' the sexton disappeared inside the house. In a couple of minutes he came out, holding a piece of yellowish paper and a pencil with teeth marks in his hands.

I took the pencil and piece of paper from his hands. 'What's that?' I stared in horror at the paper. It was a blank sheet of burial certificate.

'Don't be afraid, historian,' the old sexton tapped me on the shoulder. 'We'll all be there. Okay, write down. Barry Heily, was born on August 6, 1945. The date of death you'll have to find out from my relatives.'

I wrote down everything he said.

'Do you want to learn more about me?' Mr Heily asked.

'No, thank you,' Elmo replied instead of me. 'We'll come here later with a notepad and write down everything properly.'

'Sure,' the old sexton seemed to like this decision. 'My life is quite interesting. I've got a lot interesting things to tell.'

'Mr Heily,' Nick said pleadingly. 'You promised to give Tom the name and dates of this woman.'

'Theresa May was her name,' the old man said quietly and looked around with fear. 'I wish they had chosen another graveyard. Okay, wait here, I have to see the dates in my register book,' he stepped inside and in a minute came out again. 'Write,' he said and dictated dates of birth and death.

We thanked him and went down the path.

'So, what do you think about this dead man, who walks around the graveyard at night?' Liz whispered.

'I'm telling you, it' a cursed grave,' Richelle said, clutching at Nick's sleeve and looking around with fear. 'Do you still think it's funny?'

'I think that this guy drinks too much sometimes,' Nick snorted.

'We should listen to him and keep away from this grave,' Richelle urged. 'Otherwise we'll all end up lying in a gully with our heads broken.'

'Listen,' Nick turned to us. 'I'm going to have a closer look at this grave.'

'You mustn't' go to the cursed grave,' Richelle repeated for the hundredth time.

'Look, Nick, there's no need in it,' Liz glanced anxiously at Nick.

'I think the girls are right,' I supported them. 'There's no need to risk.'

'You can wait for me here,' Nick insisted. 'I'll just look what's there and come back.'

'I'll go too,' Elmo said decisively.

'Listen,' Sunny put in, calm as ever, 'let's say that this grave is really cursed…'

'Let's say!?' Richelle exclaimed indignantly. 'Elmo told that two men were found dead after visiting this grave!'

'Hang on,' Sunny went on calmly. 'I want to say that if this woman really died with angriness in her heart, she was angry with her offenders, not with us. We're just strangers for her.'

'You're right,' Liz breathed out with relief.

'I think we can look at it closer,' I also became interested.

'I don't know,' Richelle still doubted. 'Who knows, maybe this woman was angry with the whole world.'

'I'd rather stay here,' I immediately changed my mind.

'What a brave guy you are, Tom,' Nick drawled.

'But you are so clever, anyway,' I pouted. 'You poke your nose into everything.'

Nick snorted and went towards the grave with the marble pigeon.

'I'll see, too,' Elmo said, turning to us impatiently. 'Look. Stay here if you don't want to go.'

He quickly caught up with Nick. The rest of us exchanged glances and reluctantly followed them.

'Elmo, what do you want to find there?' Liz panted.

'There's something strange about this grave,' Elmo replied, without turning back. 'There must be something we've missed. I don't believe in walking dead people, I'm sure that there's another normal explanation.'

'Shh?' Sunny hissed suddenly.

Everyone stopped talking and looked at her. Sunny was pointing at the grave. The sun shone brightly. The marble pigeon glinted in the sunlight. Just like in my dream. But this was not what attracted Sunny's attention. She was pointing at a man, who was standing in front of the headstone. Then the man turned a little and we all gasped. We knew this man. It was John, the Pigeon fancier.

As quickly as we could we ducked down behind a wide gravestone.

'What is he doing here?' I demanded.

'Maybe he also was in love with this woman,' Richelle suggested.

The man went on standing in front of the headstone, looking mourning. On the ground, near the tombstone, a huge bunch of dark red roses was lying. There were at least fifty roses, tied together with a wide black ribbon.

'It seems to me that a lot of men were in love with this woman,' Sunny said thoughtfully.

'And all of them hurt her one way or another,' Richelle added.

'Oh, poor woman!' Liz's eyes watered. 'Everyone abandoned her! All these men ruined her life.'

'I wonder how many lovers she had,' Nick sneered.

'A lot,' Liz replied confidently. 'She wouldn't die only because of one man. The question is what will happen with this one.'

'I'm sure nothing will happen to him,' Sunny scowled. 'Liz, all these deaths were just a coincidence.'

'Shut up,' hissed Richelle. 'Do you want him to notice us?'

We went quiet. John stood for a while in front of the headstone. Then he slowly knelt down and quickly ran his hands along the headstone, pretending that he'd lost something.

'A classical dodge,' Elmo commented. 'Now I understand what he's doing here.'

'Me too,' Nick nodded. 'Someone secretly passes something to him here.'

The pigeon fancier stood up, trying to look casual. I noticed that he was holding a small packet in his hand, which he immediately shoved into his pocket. Then he looked around attentively, pulled out a cell phone from another pocket, and punched in some numbers.

'Done,' he said into the phone. 'Yes… No. No, no way,' he slowly walked away from us, so we couldn't hear him any more.

We waited till he disappeared out of sight and only then dared to stand up.

'Look, there's something written on the ribbon,' I pointed at the flowers.

Nick let go of Richelle's hand and determinately walked towards the grave.

'Nick, don't,' Richelle tried to stop him.

Nick didn't bother to answer, just kept walking towards the grave. He came up to it, bent down and unfolded the ribbon. He stared at it for a while, then turned to us.

Elmo and Sunny went over to him. Richelle didn't even move. Liz and I glanced at each other and after a little pause, came up to the grave, too.

I glanced at the black ribbon, Nick was holding unfolded. There was only one word, written in large gold letters, "Sorry". I bent down and wanted to pick up the flowers, but Elmo's ear-piercing yell made me stop.

'What?' I looked at him reproachfully.

'It might be a bomb,' he whispered.

I immediately stood up and stepped away from the flowers. Elmo could be right. One of this woman's lovers had been blown up in his car. Other her lover had been found with broken head in the gully. What if a third lover brought the bomb to a fourth one?

'Ugh,' I breathed out, shaking my head. 'Rubbish!'

'What?' Liz glanced at me.

'No, nothing,' I blushed, realizing that I must have started to think out loud.

Trying not to touch the flowers, we attentively examined the grave, but didn't find anything interesting.

'Come on,' Liz finally said, turned round and walked towards Richelle, who was still standing where we'd left her. 'There's nothing unusual here. Just a plain grave.'


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8. More and more interesting**

The next day was a public holiday, so we didn't have to go to school. But we'd already had plans for this day. First of all, Matron from Craigend had asked us to plant flowers in the "Craigend" garden. We'd agreed of course, because it was only one job we'd received for the two last weeks.

But before going to Craigend we'd decided to go to John's place to ask him about our injured pigeon. And maybe to find out something about the grave with the marble pigeon. So we'd arranged to meet near the shopping mall at ten o'clock to go to John together.

I had my own plans for this morning. I'd decided that it was my chance to be alone with Sunny and to tell her about my feelings. I made up my mind that I should do that tomorrow, no matter how difficult it would be.

While we were walking along the street, I was thinking how to invite Sunny to have breakfast tomorrow with me, before meeting with the others. We came up to the corner of the street, where she had to turn. She smiled and said goodbye. I opened my mouth to ask her to have breakfast with me tomorrow, but my tongue seemed to freeze. I just couldn't say this. Maybe if the others weren't there… Anyway, I babbled "bye" and shut my mouth, sadly watching her walking away.

We went further. I said goodbye to the others and darted around into the side street. I slowly wandered down the street, cursing myself. What's wrong with me? Nick and Richelle never shied away from expressing their feelings. So why then is it so difficult for me?

Because Nick and Richelle are not like you, my inner voice told me the answer. Nick and Richelle both like to be in the spotlight.

Yeah, I'm not like them. I like so much to be next to Sunny. I want so much to tell her that she's the best. But I just crack another joke instead. I wish I knew why.

Then I remembered that Sunny jogged every morning and another idea came into my mind. I thought that if I got up earlier, I could meet Sunny where she jogs most days and invite her to have breakfast with me. She would never know that I met her on purpose. She would think that we met accidently. And we'd be alone till the meeting with the others.

That evening I properly prepared everything for the date. First of all, I made my mother iron my best T-shirt. Secondly, I ran new bright-green shoelace through my joggers.

Before going to bed I read and memorized jokes form the best joke book. Now I could amuse Sunny with my jokes. In the end I set my alarm clock for seven a.m. and went to sleep.

###

In my sleep I heard my alarm clock ringing, and without opening my eyes, I switched it off, grumbling something about stupid machines, which didn't understand that it was my day-off, and fell asleep again.

When I opened my eyes, sunlight was streaming through the window. I sat up in my bed and stretched. Then I accidently glanced at the bedside clock. Eight thirty! I jumped out of bed with wail and started running and rushing around my room, preparing for the date.

I pulled on clean jeans and my best, ironed T-shirt, shoved my feet into my new joggers and quickly did up the bright-green laces. Then I suddenly remembered that I forgot to brush my teeth. I dashed for the bathroom, almost knocking Brian down. As quickly as I could I brushed my teeth, but after that my T-shirt turned out to be covered with spatters of toothpaste. I started to rub them till they became almost unnoticeable. Then I glanced in the mirror again and saw that my hair stuck out in all directions.

I grabbed mum's hair styling gel and slathered it on my hair.

'Not bad,' I said, looking at my reflection in the mirror with satisfaction. Then I noticed Brian's new perfume and lavishly sprayed it on myself.

I glanced in the mirror one more time, grabbed my bag and rushed out of the house, leaving Mum and Brian in bewilderment.

At nine a.m. I was already pacing back and forth near the park where Sunny usually jogged past. It was warm, but windy autumn morning. Mum's gel immediately dried. My hair became tough, but somehow the wind had blown it into a mess. My hair started sticking out in all directions again. I suppose I looked like a huge hedgehog or like a rock-star. I didn't know that though. I was sure that I looked great. I noticed that a few women gave me strange glances, but took no notice of them.

All what I cared about was not to miss Sunny. I looked around and found a bench underneath a big tree and settled down on it. Now it was quite difficult to notice me from the road, and as soon as Sunny turned up, I would come up to her, pretending that we came across accidently.

Then I remembered about money and started jerkily fumbling in my pockets. You couldn't leave you money at home, could you, Tom, stupid head! I kept talking to myself. How are you supposed to have breakfast with Sunny without money?

Luckily I found money in one of my pockets. I calmed down and went on waiting.

Sunny didn't turn up. I glanced at my watch nervously. Can she have already been here? Or maybe she changed her usual route? Or maybe she decided not to jog today at all?

I looked around again and saw, of all people, John, the Pigeon fancier. My first thought was to come up to him and asked about our pigeon, but then I changed my mind. If I came up to him, I could miss Sunny. John went towards me, though. But then he abruptly stopped at a wide information sign. A young guy came up to him instantly. As soon as John saw the guy, his friendly face twisted in a malignant grimace. The young guy spread his hands, as if he was apologetic about something and started talking something to John.

All of a sudden I wanted to know what they were talking about. I don't like eavesdropping, but this time I couldn't help myself. So I very quietly came up to the two men and stopped, pretending to read advertisement on the other side of the information sign.

'I'm waiting,' I heard the Pigeon fancier said.

'It's not my fault,' the guy replied with obvious fear in his voice. 'We'll do everything today. I promise!'

'You should have done everything yesterday!' John growled. 'I'm not going to risk my life because of you.'

'But it just to be happen this way,' the guy apologized. 'Look. Today everything will be done. I'm telling you!'

'If everything isn't done today, you can make your will,' John said viciously. 'Now. Tomorrow everything should be lying in the pigeon. Do you know where it is?'

'Yes,' the guy faltered. 'It's the grave with the marble pigeon.'

'Right,' John grinned savagely. 'You know when the customer will be there. And I can assure you, if you don't do everything, you won't leave the graveyard. Is it clear?'

I froze. My hands became cold. Now I perfectly realized that if they saw me, standing there and eavesdropping, I would keep this guy's company in the graveyard. To my happiness, John abruptly turned round and went up the street. The guy sighed with relief and walked past me. I pretended to read the advertisement on the information sign.

I watched him going off, thinking about their conversation. Elmo was right. There's something weird about this grave and the marble pigeon. At that moment I noticed Sunny. She was jogging along the street.

'Sunny!' I ran up to her. 'Hi!'

Sunny smiled in surprise and pulled out the earphones from her ears. 'What are you doing here?' she asked.

'I was just going by, when I saw you,' I babbled, feeling my face becoming hot. 'Listen… Do you want to eat something?'

'I've already had breakfast today,' Sunny grinned. 'But I'd like to drink something.'

'Great,' I really was glad to hear this.

We settled down at a table in the nearest cafe and I ordered two glasses of juice and two bowls of ice-cream. While Sunny was eating ice-cream, I was telling jokes, I'd read yesterday. She laughed. I watched her face. There was something vivid about her face when she laughed. I wished I could stop time and stay in this moment with her forever, feeling something melting inside when she smiled at me.

But I couldn't stop time. Sunny glanced at her watch and said that the others must have been waiting for us. I reluctantly paid for the ice-cream and juice and we headed to the shopping mall to meet with the gang. While we walked I told Sunny about the overheard conversation. She looked worried.

The others had already gathered. Nick and Richelle were standing together. Automatically I noticed that Nick's hands were on Richelle's waist and felt an unbearable desire to hug Sunny. Elmo was saying something to Liz, who half listened to him, standing with her arms folded and watching us coming.

'Where have you two been?' she asked too sternly, giving me her iciest stare.

What did I do to her? I thought in puzzlement.

'You know that before going to Craigend we should go to John to ask him about the pigeon,' she went on. '

'Liz, I don't think that we should go to John today,' Sunny said gently. 'Tom found out something. Tell them,' she turned to me.

'I saw this John guy about an hour ago,' I began. 'He talked to a young guy at the entrance to the park and…'

'At the park?! What did you do there?' Nick interrupted me.

I felt my face getting hot. I couldn't tell them that I was waiting for Sunny on purpose. I just couldn't. 'I…um…I was on my way here…' I mumbled.

'On you way here? Oh, come on!' Nick was never a tactful person. 'What are you talking about? Your house is in the completely opposite direction, and you were supposed to be going _here_.'

'I decided to go for a walk,' I faltered.

'For a walk?!' Nick exclaimed indignantly. 'So we have to wait for you here while you're walking?'

'I wanted to buy a hot dog,' I finally made up an appropriate excuse. 'They sell very tasty ones near the park, you know.'

'You could buy a hot dog over there, without making us wait for you,' Nick jerked his head towards the hot dog stand, which was a few meters away from us.

'Leave him alone, Nick,' Elmo muttered. It crossed my mind that he clearly understood what I'd been doing on that street.

'Yeah,' I nodded quickly, 'you'd better listen.' And before Nick went on asking his stupid questions, I quickly told them everything, I'd found out. The others, Nick included, were listening to me very attentively.

'We should definitely have another look at this grave,' Nick said when I finished speaking.

'Nick, you perfectly know that we arranged to go to John to ask him about our pigeon,' Liz put in crossly.

'Liz, if you think that I'll go to a man, who promised to kill someone, you're mistaken,' Richelle objected. 'I don't like this John at all. And I don't care if he cured this stupid bird.'

'Richelle, we gave him my cage,' Sunny said calmly. 'So we'll have to go to his place no matter if we want it or not.'

'But we can… we can go tomorrow,' I babbled. 'Or the day after tomorrow. To tell the truth I don't feel like meeting him today either.'

We discussed it for a while and in the end decided to go there in a couple of days. Liz reluctantly agreed. For some reason she was in a snappy mood today.

'Listen, something strange is happening,' Nick insisted. 'We should at least try to find out what's been going on with this grave.'

'And how are you going to find it out?' I turned to him.

'We can watch them,' Nick replied quickly. 'We can hide somewhere near that grave and watch.'

'But we don't know when they're meeting,' I objected. 'Honestly Kontellis, you don't want to sit around in the graveyard all day long, do you?'

'Well I'm not going to spend the whole day there,' Richelle exclaimed immediately. 'I've got better things to do.'

Nick pressed his lips together. You could see that he didn't feel like sitting, crouching behind a headstone all day long either.

'We can divide into groups and take turns watching,' Elmo put in. Sometimes Elmo is as curious as Nick, especially when he has a chance to receive a good story for the Pen.

Of course Nick instantly agreed with Elmo. I didn't mind this idea either. After all it was another chance for me to talk to Sunny. The graveyard isn't very romantic place to talk about love, but I guess it's my destiny.

We decided to watch the grave with the marble pigeon in pairs. Elmo and Liz were to take the first watch straight after school tomorrow.

After that we turned round and went to Craigend.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9. More problems**

By the time we'd finished planting flowers in Craigend's garden, it was late evening. Elmo had already gone to the Pen. It was Wednesday and they had a lot of work there.

Nick kept complaining that he was tired and that his back was aching because of all these flowers. Richelle was grumbling something about soiled clothes and spoilt manicure. The rest of us were silent. Liz and Sunny weren't speaking to each other. For some reason Liz was sulky with Sunny. I tried to joke to defuse the tension, but they both gave me so furious glances that I shut my mouth and went on working in silence.

Finally we collected the implements, put it away, and having received our money, we went onto the road. Liz came up to me and spoke in a low voice.

'I'm going to walk Christo,' she said. 'Do you want to join me?'

'I'm sorry, but I can't,' I mumbled. 'I'd like to, but… I've already promised Sunny to walk her home.'

'Oh,' she shrugged, trying to look indifferent. 'Okay. Fine.'

I felt a sharp twinge of conscience. I didn't want to offend Liz. But she'd been so strange lately. I didn't like all these hints of her. I glanced at her secretly. She was walking in silence, looking at Sunny sideways.

Oh ho, I thought. I felt that _I_ was the problem. And it was strange. I've never been popular among girls, and it was so strange and uncomfortable to watch the two best friends drifting apart because of me.

Nick and Richelle said goodbye and turned off down the side street. I watched after them with envy. They sauntered off, hand in hand, holding their heads high. They both seemed so cool and happy. Unlike them the three of us went on walking along the street in an uncomfortable silence.

Sunny and I walked Liz home. She said goodbye very quietly and came in the house without looking back at us. Sunny and I glanced at each other. I offered to walk her home and she agreed. She didn't need to be protected, rather the opposite, I felt safer when I was with Sunny.

Anyway, Sunny and I were walking along the street in silence. She seemed to think of something. Usually I like to walk Sunny home, because I can be alone with her, but this time it was like a torture. I wished it finished.

At last we reached her house. Sunny smiled at me, said goodbye and disappeared behind the door. I stood for a while in the shadow of a tree, looking at her window. The light was switched on in the room. Someone came up to the window and straightened the curtains. I don't know if it was Sunny or her sister or her mother. I sighed, turned round and wandered home. But on my way home I realized that I couldn't stand that any more. I turned round abruptly and ran to Liz's house, on the way planning what I might say to her.

Her father opened the door. I greeted him politely and asked if I could speak to Liz. Mr Free disappeared somewhere inside, grumbling something about teenagers, who disturb him in the middle of dinner with his family. But all the same he must have called Liz, because a minute later she came out to me.

'What's up, Tom?' she asked. 'Listen, dad is in a bad mood today, so speak fast.'

All that conversation that ran through my head over and over again on the way here, completely slipped out of my mind.

'I… just wanted to tell that…' I babbled. Liz stared at me searchingly without answering. She looked serious and determined, and sort of hopeful as well.

I started to regret that I'd come here. I guess it wasn't the best idea. But it was too late to change anything. I knew I had to say something.

'I just wanted to say that…' I kept faltering. 'Oh, never mind. But please, don't be offended with Sunny. She didn't do anything. She never hurt you. It isn't her fault.'

Liz's eyes softened. I noticed tears in her eyes and felt really uncomfortable.

'I know,' she said in a very low voice, trying to blink the tears away. 'I know. It's okay, Tom.'

'But you…'

'I'm fine,' she interrupted. 'I'm fine. Listen, it's very late. Go home.'

'But Liz, listen,' I began, but she shut the door in front of my nose. So I had no choice but to turn round and wander home.

###

I was late for dinner again. But for some reason Brian didn't say a lot to me. He just gave me a heavy glance and went on listening to the boys, who were telling him and mum about school gossips. As I helped myself to the various dishes, I wished I was hungrier. The meal tasted of nothing. For the first time in my life I didn't feel like eating.

I slowly chewed, thinking that everything would never be the same as it was. Actually everything had changed much earlier. Since Nick and Richelle started dating, they had been spending more and more time without us. They hung out with their other friends, or wanted to go out alone, or something else. Not that I liked to spend time with Nick and Richelle. Quite the opposite, without Nick I felt more comfortable, knowing that I could joke and fool around without fear that I might be laughed at or insulted.

But their presence distracted the rest of us from our problems. No matter how much I didn't want to admit that there were problems between us, they were. And now, when we more and more often hung out without Nick and Richelle, I clearly could feel this tension between Liz, Sunny, Elmo and me.

My childish feeling to Sunny became stronger and turned into something more serious. I guess I just grew up.

I started to notice Elmo looking at me sideways. Elmo always had been my close friend. I've known him less than I've known the others, but I always trusted him my secrets, told him about my problems and shared gossips with him. Elmo is a very calm, strong and reasonable person. He always listened to me and gave me wise advices. It continued until one day I told him what I felt about Liz and Sunny. Since then his attitude towards me had changed. We went on going to movies, hanging out together, chattering over the phone, but I started to notice him looking at me sadly. I guess that's because of Liz. Elmo always considered that Liz was the best and the most ideal girl he'd ever met.

My sad thoughts were interrupted by a telephone ring.

'That's impossible!' Brian grabbed the receiver with irritation. 'Yes,' he barked into the phone. 'Yes. Thomas Moysten lives here… Yes, he's my stepson… _What_? _What police station?'_

I froze. The worst thing I'd expected seemed to be happening.

'_What_?' Brian went on, but the surprise in his voice gradually was changing into angriness. 'The witness? The witness of what?.. The passenger died? So?... No, I'm not laughing. Quite the opposite, I feel sorry for him, but what has this man to do with Tom?'

I felt my whole body cramping up, my heart almost stopped beating. I listened attentively to Brian's answers. According to them, the accidental fellow-traveler of Nick Elmo and Zane had died not because of a heart attack.

'No!' Brian went on. 'I don't know anything about it... No, I'm telling you, he didn't tell us anything. When did it happen?... Oh, I see. Should we come?... Sure… On Saturday?.. Of course, we'll come!.. Okay, wait, please, I'll write it down.'

Brian grabbed a pen and a notepad, and started to write something, from time to time giving me furious glances.

'Sure,' he finally said into the phone. 'We'll be there.'

The conversation was finished. Brian put the phone down and slowly turned to us. His face was pale. He opened his mouth. I expected an awful shout, but he just whispered very quietly, 'Well, well…'

'Brian,' Mum pleaded. 'Please, don't shout. You'll scare the boys.'

'Shut up!' Brian yelled.

Mum went pale. During all those years that she and Brian were together he never shouted at her. Yes, I didn't get on with him, and we often quarreled, but I knew that he loved Mum and cared about her. Mum's lips started to shake; tears came into her eyes.

'See?' Brian dramatically stretched out his hand towards Mum. 'See what you've done? You've made your mother cry.'

I'll kill Elmo tomorrow, I thought angrily. I'll just kill him. 'Brian, what is it?' I said aloud, trying to look astonished. 'Who was that? What were they talking about me?'

Brian burst into loud and sardonic laughter, just like Mephistopheles, and then barked, 'Oh, as if you don't know! As if you don't know anything!' And having kicked at the stool, he stomped out of the kitchen.

'Tom, what did you do?' Mum whispered. 'Please, tell me. Don't lie to me!'

'I didn't do anything,' I said the truth, looking into her eyes. But she didn't believe me of course.

'Why are you lying?' she shook her head sadly. 'Look at Brian. Don't you see the state he's in? Do you want us to divorce?'

'No, I don't,' I shook my head firmly, thinking that it wouldn't be so bad.

Brian came back into the kitchen. He was smoking.

'Brian! What are you doing?' Mum flung up her hands. 'You don't smoke!'

'So what?' Brian blew out a thick jet of smoke, looking at me furiously. 'You never know what to expect from people. Right, Tom?'

'Can anyone tell me what's happening?' Mum pleaded.

'I'd like to hear it from your son,' Brian thrust the cigarette into the sink and immediately lit up another one. 'So, Tom,' he turned to me. 'We're listening to you.'

'But I have nothing to tell,' I exclaimed. 'Honestly, I didn't do anything!'

'Oh, I see,' Brian gave me a glance full of sarcasm, 'so I'll have to tell then.'

And he told that it was the call from a police station of a little town or another suburb. The policeman said that Thomas Moysten and two his classmates had been in the train three days ago, where a dead man had been found. The medical commission concluded that it wasn't a heart attack; the man had been killed. Tom and his friends knew this man. Since it was a murder, the police had to interrogate Tom and his friends again. So they asked Tom and his parents to arrive at the police station of this town on Saturday.

'But I've never been in this town!' I objected. And it was the truth.

'I _was_ there!' Brian roared. 'And I don't feel like going there again! Tell me the truth, Tom, what happened three days ago? What did you do there?'

'But Brian,' Mum put in cautiously. 'Three days ago it was Sunday. Tom was at home all day long. We went to visit your friend with the boys, but Tom stayed at home because he had a lot of homework to do.'

'That's what you think,' Brian exclaimed. 'I guess he waited till we left him at home alone, and then he went to this town together with his bunch of friends.'

'No, Brian,' Mum protested. 'I remember that I called Tom as soon as we came to your friends.'

'He must have gone after your call,' Brian wasn't convinced.

The argument lasted until late evening. Brian wanted to know the truth. I negated everything. Mum begged me to tell everything honestly. Finally Brian threw the empty pack of cigarettes into the litter bin and told me to go to bed.

I can imagine what's happening now in Brent and Simon's families if this policeman also called them, I thought, making my bed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10. Much more problems**

When the next morning after the Pen delivery I came into the class, I understood that the police had called not only me. Brent Howe, shaking with his huge fists, was telling what had happened yesterday in his family. Our classmates were listening to him with their jaws dropped.

'Oogh, I promise, I'll find out who did that,' Brent finished his story. 'And I'll kill them on the spot!'

Nick, who'd already known what had happened, because he'd witnessed a sharp conversation between Elmo and me, paled, and trying to look as casual and natural as possible, sat down at his desk. I guess he clearly understood that if Brent found out who'd said his name in that police station, unlike me, he wouldn't confine himself to a conversation.

At that moment Simon Luper came in and added fuel to the flame. His parents also had a call from the police, but unlike Brent and me, Simon spent that fatal Sunday with his parents. But all the same he had to go to that town to bear testimony. Unfortunately, he had an important boxing competition on Saturday and because of this interrogation he had to miss it. So Simon also swore that he'd find out who had set him up so mean, and would knock them out.

On hearing this, Zane, who'd never been afraid of anything, mumbled something about a book he had left somewhere, and slipped out of the class.

'I just don't understand why someone would say our names,' Brent went on raging. 'My dad has already called his lawyer and asked him to go with us. It's one of the best lawyers in the city, so I think it won't be very difficult for him to work out who did that. And then I'll deal with them personally. I promise!'

I glanced at Nick. He tried to look in every direction but not at Brent. And it crossed my mind that all what he wanted was just go to home, as far as possible form Brent and Simon. And I know that it's wrong, but I felt sort of satisfaction, seeing him in such a state.

To his happiness the bell rang and the teacher came in. Everyone stopped arguing immediately and sat down at their desks.

###

That day was difficult. Brent and Simon started working out who had told their names in the police over and over again. Nick and Zane tried to keep away from them. Sunny and I had different classes, so I didn't even see her till the last class.

The last class was English. We gathered together near the classroom, so as we could discuss who and when would go to the graveyard.

'Okay, it's clear,' after a while Elmo said, turning the door knob, 'let's go in.'

Having come into the class we saw a strange picture. A few boys, including Sid Mish, Brent Howe and Simon Luper, panting and swearing, moved the huge book cabinet towards the door. Zane Quistok stood nearby. Waving his arms like an orchestra conductor, he gave commands.

'To the left, Sid! Come on, Brent, push it! Move faster! No, no, this way!' he was saying.

'Why are you doing this?' I immediately became interested in.

'Why?!' Zane waved his arms faster, as if everything was obvious. 'We're making a barricade from Larson. I've already counted everything! Look. Larson comes and tries to open the door, but can't, because this book cabinet stands right behind the door and holds it. It's so heavy and massive, Larson won't be able to open the door even a crack. So Larson pounds on the door, twists the knob, bangs on it, but the door doesn't open. Finally he becomes furious, goes to the principal and tells him that the door is stuck. But while he's talking to the principal, we're moving the book cabinet back to its place and sit down at our desks. Larson and the principal come in and start asking what's going on. We're looking at them with innocent eyes and say that nothing's going on, we're just waiting for Mr Larson, but for some reason he doesn't come. Mr Larson tries to prove that the door didn't open. Mr Frangelli doesn't believe him. They argue, we say that Larson didn't come and so on… till the end of the lesson.'

The more Quistok worked out his idea, the more we inspired by it. Except for some girls and Elmo.

'I don't think that it's a good idea,' he said doubtfully. 'We'll end up in troubles again.'

'Don't be such a coward!' Zane exclaimed. 'Everything will be okay! I'm telling you, I've counted everything!'

'You always count everything,' Nick muttered, hinting at the troubles we were in, which had happened because of Zane's previous idea.

Several kids giggled.

'There's nothing to laugh at,' Quistok resented. 'If you don't want, we won't do anything and will just be listening how Mr Larson drones about the image of Dorian Gray in Shakespeare's oeuvre.'

'Dorian Gray was written by Oscar Wilde,' Sunny corrected him, grinning.

'Whatever!' Quistok waved her off impatiently. 'Mr Larson tells about all of them equally boringly.'

'Stop chatting then!' I exclaimed. 'The bell will ring in a minute.'

'Go back to work!' Quistok started giving commands again.

The boys, completely inspired by his idea, began pushing the heavy book cabinet towards the door. I joined them. Nick didn't mind disrupting the lesson either, but he wasn't going to do anything for that, leaving this to us. He, Elmo and the girls stepped back and watched us in silence. Although, we didn't need their help. Brent, Simon, Sid, me and a couple of other boys could move the book cabinet without them. We pushed it, panting and puffing. The heavy book cabinet slowly moved towards the door.

'Faster! Faster!' Zane commanded. 'Brent, move it to the left! Come on, Tom, heave it!'

I applied all my weight to the heavy cabinet from behind. I worked conscientiously, but automatically. Sad thoughts started flushing through my head again. Our relationship with Sunny got nowhere, let alone Brian, who had been furious since that yesterday ring from the police. Besides, I clearly realized that when we came to that police station to give testimonies, they would understand that we are not those guys who'd been there several days ago. It would cause more troubles for all of us.

Strangely enough, but thinking about troubles, I was in because of Zane's previous idea, I didn't even think to stay away from his new idea. And of course I had to pay for this.

The book cabinet had already almost closed the door, when Jenny, who was to watch the hallway, shouted that Mr Larson was coming. Everyone instantly dashed towards their desks and sat down on their chair.

'Oh, what a pity!' Quistok exclaimed disappointedly.

But he was in a hurry with conclusions. I was so absorbed in my private thoughts that didn't even notice Jenny's warning. Besides, I pushed the book cabinet from behind and didn't see how the others ran away. So I went on heaving at the book cabinet with all my strength. Of course I would never cope with such a ponderous thing on my own. But the old book cabinet obviously decided to help me, because all of a sudden its front legs fell apart. The cabinet leant forward towards the door. Now even my slightest effort was quite enough.

Hardly had Mr Larson came into the classroom, when the book cabinet fell straight onto him. I have to explain why this cabinet was so heavy. Its shelves were occupied with plaster busts of noble writers, scientists and philosophers of the past. As Mr Larson came in, he embraced the falling book cabinet. He often bragged that the long teaching experience helped him to develop skills of a fighter, who could stay safe and sound in any critical situation. Well, he successfully proved that.

But unfortunately Mr Larson didn't have enough power to hold the heavy book cabinet for a long time. He managed to hold it only for about a few seconds, then plaster thinkers of the past took the upper hand over the old teacher. But at least this delay gave Mr Larson time to plan the path of retreat. He made an awesome leap back, just like a kangaroo. By the time the book cabinet crashed to the floor, Mr Larson had been in the middle of the class.

The book cabinet crashed on its side, its glass doors broke. Busts of noble people fell out and rolled along the floor, bumping and overtaking each other. Some of them broke apart, others lost their noses, ears and other parts.

The students stared in horror at this fight of Mr Larson and the book cabinet with their jaws dropped. Completely stuck, I also froze near the book cabinet, looking at Larson, what was a big mistake of me. When I finally came to myself, I made an effort to slip to my desk, but Mr Larson dashed towards me and grabbed my shirt collar.

'To the principal!' he barked. 'You, Moysten, are getting more and more amoral. Today you made an attempt on life and health of a teacher.'

Without letting go of me, he tried to go out of the class, but was stopped by the book cabinet, which blocked off the way out of the class.

'Take it away!' Mr Larson roared at the others. The boys rushed to move the book cabinet away from the door, girls started to collect broken plaster busts.

Zane Quistok was right in two things - the English lesson was disrupted and Mr Larson called the principal. As for the rest, events were developing very differently than Quistok had expected.

Mr Frangelli, the principal, obviously understood that I couldn't handle with such a big and heavy book cabinet on my own. He realized that someone must have helped me. So till the end of the lesson, he and Mr Larson tried to find out who had helped me and why we had done it after all. Of course we couldn't say that we wanted to disrupt the lesson, so we had to make up apologetic excuses that we just wanted to move the book cabinet closer to the door so as everyone could see the busts of noble people behind the glass doors.

'Bunch of hooligans,' Mr Larson grumbled. 'It's just a bunch of hooligans!'

Mr Frangelli gave us a heavy glance. 'So,' he said gravely. 'I can't leave this incident without attention. And I don't want to. Tomorrow we're having a teacher-parent meeting. You and your parents must be there.

Saying this, he turned round and strode out of the class. Mr Larson followed him. Everyone sighed with relief and started to collect their stuff. Zane Quistok grabbed his textbook and pencils, and quickly slipped out of the class. No one saw him that day any more. I guess he had decided not to take any chances and had run straight home.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11. In the graveyard**

Nick and Richelle also went home. I think Nick had the same desire to go as quickly as possible from Brent and Simon. Well, I couldn't blame him.

Elmo and Liz went straight to the graveyard. I raced home to have lunch, and then ran to the gym before Brian came home. I was forbidden to go out except for school till Saturday, but I made up my mind that I couldn't be left behind because of Nick and Elmo's stupid journey.

Besides, I wanted to make a surprise for Sunny. I thought she would be glad if I came. So I came up to the gymnastics room, quietly slipped in and sat down on a bench. Sunny was doing bar works. She didn't notice me and went on doing somersaults. She always lost herself in gymnastics. It was a way into her private space. When she was doing gym exercises nothing else mattered.

She did the last somersault and gracefully jumped off the bar onto the floor. The coach approvingly patted her on the shoulder; some girls looked at her with envy in their eyes. Smiling, Sunny, turned around and noticed me. She waved at me, then made me a sign to wait for her and ran towards the change rooms.

Twenty minutes later we were sitting in a cafe, drinking juice and talking. At first we just chattered and giggled. Then Sunny made a serious face and said that we should seriously speak.

I also knew that, of course, but for some reason I wasn't prepared for that again. So I glanced at my watch and said that we should be hurry, because our turn to watch would come in twenty minutes. Sunny gave me a serious glance, then shrugged and stood up.

###

Soon we were sitting behind a wide tombstone with Liz and Elmo. Nothing had happened during their watch. Elmo was very disappointed. He'd hoped that he would receive a big front-page story for the Pen. He even offered to sit there with Sunny and me.

Liz glanced at us meaningfully, and hauled Elmo away. I watched them till they disappeared out of sight. Sunny was silent. I didn't feel like speaking either. For a while we sat in full silence, barely glancing at each other. Then my leg became numb and I started fidgeting, trying to find a more convenient position.

For the first time in my entire life I felt uncomfortable being alone with her. I perfectly realized that we should have a serious talk and work everything out; that I should pull myself together and tell her everything I felt. But I just couldn't force myself to do that. Every time when I opened my mouth to say these fondest words, my tongue became numb. And it happened over and over again. I cracked jokes, hiding my embarrassment; Sunny laughed; and I ended up going home alone, cursing myself for my diffidence, clearly understanding that if I didn't tell her, someone else surely would. And then… I couldn't even imagine what would happen then.

I glanced at Sunny. She was sitting almost motionless, her legs crossed, and looking towards the headstone with the pigeon.

I wonder how she can sit so long without moving, I thought grimly, stretching and changing my legs again. My legs felt stiff and uncomfortable, my back started aching because of long sitting in an inconvenient position. In addition to that, it was getting dark and cold. I fidgeted again. Waiting was getting me down. Especially if I didn't quite know what we were waiting for.

'Listen, you're getting on my nerves,' finally Sunny whispered without even looking at me.

'My legs have gone to sleep,' I muttered. 'And I'm cold.'

'I'm also cold,' Sunny was far from sympathy.

I sighed and tried not to move. I managed to sit motionlessly for about ten minutes. Then I felt my nose starting running, and began feeling in my pockets for the handkerchief.

'What's wrong this time?' Sunny glanced sideways at me.

'My nose's running,' I grumbled. 'I need to pull out the handkerchief.'

'Hurry up while we're alone here,' she whispered, looking around.

My handkerchief was in the front pocket of my jeans. I had to stand upright to shove my hand into the pocket and pull out the handkerchief. When I stood up, my stiff legs began tingling and twitching. I rocked, made a step right, tripped over something, and quietly groaning, I fell flat on my face, hitting my shoulder against an edge of a gravestone.

'Sometimes Nick's right about your ability to fall everywhere,' Sunny snorted, trying hard not to burst out laughing. 'You can fall even on a level ground.'

'What the hell a level ground,' I muttered, rubbing my shoulder. 'There are stones everywhere. And this grass is so slippery here. It's a wonder I didn't break my neck.'

Sunny didn't listen to me. She was looking around. We still were alone in the graveyard. All visitors had gone away long time ago. Not far from us there were two wide headstones, and several broadleaf bushes right behind them.

'Go there. Quickly,' Sunny commanded. 'After your maneuvers the grass is so trampled down as if someone rode around on a tractor.

Trying to look natural, we rounded the bushes. The graveyard ended here; there was a line of trees and a fence behind the bushes, which separated the graveyard from other places. So I don't think someone would decide to go there. This place turned out to be an ideal place for watching. No one could see us behind these bushes with wide leaves from the graveyard, and no one could see us from behind. But _we_ perfectly could see the gravestone with the marble pigeon through leaves and branches.

It was getting dark. There was no one around, except us. The tombstones rose up in the twilight, lighted by the moonlight like in a horror film. The silence around us was frightening. There was no sound. No wind. Even leaves on the trees didn't move. A dark, heavy cloud covered the sky to the horizon, making the evening even darker.

Neither Sunny, nor I said anything to each other, afraid to break this silence. From time to time I glanced at the grave. The marble pigeon eerily glimmered in the darkness like a ghost.

Suddenly sharp shouts broke the silence. Sunny and I jumped and stared at each other in horror.

'It's a raven,' Sunny whispered in my ear.

'I heard these birds foretell a coming death,' I murmured.

'There's nothing to foretell,' Sunny whispered back, 'there're only decedents here.'

'Please, don't tell about decedents,' I pleaded. 'It's spooky enough without them.'

The soul-chilling shouts ceased. Because of the dark, heavy cloud and trees around us, the graveyard was almost dark. I glanced at my watch. Nick and Elmo were to come in about an hour. Their turn was last for today. I rubbed my still aching shoulder.

'I'm going to get a huge bruise,' I muttered.

Sunny grinned and picked a dry leaf out of my hair. 'Everything will be okay with you,' she whispered, and sniggering, tousled my hair.

It produced a great impression on me. Without thinking what I was doing, I bent down and kissed her. I still don't know how I did that. It just happened. I slightly touched her lips with mine, waiting how she would react. Sunny was a tae-kwon-do black belt and I didn't feel like learning her rage if she didn't like what I'd done.

But Sunny didn't seem to mind. That is she froze for a moment, surprised, but then she answered. She leant closer to me. My heart started pounding like a drum when I realized that she also wanted it. I put my hands on her waist, pulling her closer to me and kissed her again, stronger this time.

We forgot about everything; we forgot where we were and why we'd come there. At that moment there were only Sunny and me in the whole world.

I lowered my hands on her waist. I kissed her lips, her face, her neck. Her hands were somewhere on my back underneath the T-shirt. She caressed my back, my hair, and I felt as though it was just a dream. Just a dream which I'd seen so many times.

I don't know how long we had been kissing, sitting among those bushes and trees. It seemed to me that the time had stopped for us, and I liked it. But all of a sudden Sunny disengaged herself from my arms and glanced deep into my eyes. I breathed out and stuck my nose into her hair, squeezing her in my hands. She clung closer to me, more endearing and at the same time more earnest. I felt her heart beating fast and it made my own heart beating even faster.

Sunny pulled herself away from me and started to adjust her clothes and hair. 'It's not the right place, Tom,' she said quietly. 'We're in the graveyard after all.'

'No, we are not,' I objected, pointing at the line of old trees and bushes in front of us, which separated the graveyard from everything else. 'We're _behind_ the graveyard.'

'All the same,' Sunny glanced at me and smiled. My soul was singing with happiness when I saw this smile. There was so much tenderness and… love in this smile, that I was about to go mad with happiness.

I sat up and pulled her towards me. We sat together, leaning back against a tree trunk, my hands were circled around Sunny, squeezing her hands. It was almost full darkness around us. We sat in silence. We didn't feel like speaking. Everything was clear between us without words. We just sat together, looking at the stars in the sky.

It was quite late. I knew that a mighty row was waiting for me at home. Brian had told me to go straight home after school, and he'd be furious when I finally turned up. But not for anything in the world I would go home and miss this night with Sunny. After all it would be just another quarrel with Brian. It could wait. Sunny couldn't. I decided to let things slide. Come what may. I don't care what will happen; all what I care about is what's happening now.

'It seems to me that they are going to meet at night after all,' I whispered after awhile, breathing in the wonderful subtle scent of her hair. 'So many efforts for nothing. You know, I'm afraid even to imagine what will happen when I come home.'

'I can understand,' Sunny said with sympathy. 'I…' she broke off and squeezed my hand tighter.

I stared through the leaves at the grave with the marble pigeon and shivered. A tall, dark human figure appeared near the grave without any sound. The figure froze near the tombstone. It made no sound. Not a single stick cracked or a pebble shifted beneath its feet. Nothing broke the silence of the graveyard. Sunny and I crouched motionless, afraid that the dark figure would spot us.

Sunny pressed close to me. 'Don't be afraid,' I whispered in her ear, doing my best not to shake with fear.

The stranger was standing near the grave. He didn't move, just slowly looked around. It lasted for about a minute. Then he lifted his left hand and touched the claw of the marble pigeon. There was a grating sound. The marble pigeon came to life. Its wings started moving, its beak curved like that of some birds of prey. And then it started turning to the place where Sunny and I were sitting.

My heart sank down into my shoes; I was about to shout, but Sunny managed to tightly clamp her hand over my mouth.

'It's all right,' she whispered. 'It's not a ghost, it's just a mechanism.'

By that time I'd already also realized it and felt awfully foolish, annoyed that I'd been frightened like a little kid. I was glad that it was dark and Sunny couldn't see my burning face. Sunny nudged me gently by the elbow, attracting my attention. I concentrated on the grave. The pedestal with the marble pigeon had moved aside, creating a small hollow in the headstone. The stranger, in whom we recognized John, the pigeon fancier, was putting little plastic packets into a hollow-out section.

A perfect place for a secret place, I thought admiringly. No matter what he was hiding there, no one would ever think to look for it here in the graveyard.

John looked around again, put the marble pigeon on its place and walked away, looking like a casual visitor.

'Now I understood everything,' Sunny whispered. So did I. They hid something in this grave.

We stayed where we were for several minutes in case John or someone else were hanging around, then crawled out of the bushes and cautiously reached the grave. I put my fingers on the pigeon's claw as John had done earlier, and having found a small knobble, I pressed it. The pedestal with the pigeon obediently went aside, opening a deep cavity in the tombstone, where little plastic packets were lying.

Sunny pushed her fingers inside the hole, pulled out one of the packets and stabbed it with her fingernail. There were little, grey stones inside.

'And that's all?' I drawled in disappointment. I expected it would be something more interesting than just plain stones.

'Maybe they're valuable,' Sunny said doubtfully.

At that moment I heard stealthy movements behind my back. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed two shadow figures in the darkness. Sunny abruptly turned round and swung up her leg, kicking one of the figures. It yelped in a familiar voice.

'Hey! Stop that!'

'Shh,' another voice whispered. 'It's just us.'

I breathed out with relief. It was Nick and Elmo.

'Sunny! You hit me on the shoulder!' Elmo was complaining. 'Ooh, that hurts!

'Sorry,' Sunny grinned guiltily.

'Did they come?' Nick asked impatiently.

Sunny and I told them everything what we'd seen. Nick and Elmo of course wanted to look at the stones with their own eyes. I showed them how to open and close the hollowed-out section at the top of the gravestone. Then Nick took a handful of stones from the plastic packet, Sunny had pulled out from the gravestone, and started examining them under the torch light.

'Hey! I saw the same stone in my yard,' Elmo exclaimed, taking one stone and bringing it to his eyes for a closer look.

'What?' the rest of us stared at him.

'Yeah,' Elmo twisted the stone in his hands, inspecting it from every side. 'Exactly the same. I found it where Shadow caught that pigeon.'

'Do you think that that pigeon lost it when Shadow seized him?' Sunny said doubtfully. 'Do you think these stones are valuable?'

'Very valuable,' Nick whispered excitedly. Now our eyes were fixed on him. He looked back at us. 'Don't you see?' he went on, his eyes sparkling in the torch light. 'It's uncut diamonds.'

'Oh, yeah, sure,' I snorted.

'I'm telling you, it's diamonds,' Nick insisted. 'I often see gemstones, cut and uncut, when Mr Terzis works at home. I think Sunny's right. Pigeons carry uncut stones to John and obviously for some reason he hides them here. Very smart scheme.'

'Hey, listen,' I said, looking around nervously. 'If it's diamonds, we'd better go away from here before someone come to take them. Otherwise we can stay in this graveyard forever.'

The others nodded. Looking around, we carefully wound between graves, heading for the gates of the graveyard. And then we ran straight to the police.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12. The last answers**

We came home very late that night. Greta Vortek, a policewoman we knew very well, had rung our parents, told them that we were safe and said that the police needs to talk to us for a while. We also managed to convince her to help us to escape interrogation of the case of Sam's death. In the end Greta agreed. She had a long conversation with the police station of that town, and after that she called my, Brent and Simon's families and told them that a mistake had occurred and that the police apologized for those calls. So at least this problem was solved.

Though it didn't save me from a violent and emotional scene, which weariless Brian made when I'd come home. He thundered with rage, pacing back and forth the living room, and shouting that one day I'd be found dead in a gully or a dark corner, or end up drawing cartoons for a cheap, yellow newspaper. Mum was running after him with sedative pills. Finally she managed to calm him down a little. The next moment I blurted out that we had a teacher-parent meeting at school tomorrow and that Brian should present there.

The storm continued.

###

Liz, Nick and Richelle had the same problems with their families. The next day there was the teacher-parent meeting, where we also had to present. The meeting lasted for about three hours. The principal and our parents tried to get to the bottom of the incident; we stubbornly followed our version that we'd just wanted to move the book cabinet from the back part of the classroom to the front part.

In the end the school management asked the parents to pay for the broken things and apologize to Mr Larson. As for us, all participants of this trick received a severe reprimand. At this point Mr Frangelli declared the teacher-parent meeting closed.

###

Sunny asked me not to tell the others what'd happened between us in the graveyard that night. She asked to give her some more time to work it out with Liz. I agreed. Liz was her best friend, and no wonder Sunny wanted to save their friendship. But we met separately from them. We just couldn't help ourselves.

I finally told her everything I felt. She didn't tell me the same, but I think that was because of her nature. She never speaks about her feelings and problems, keeping them to herself. But I just knew that she felt the same way that I did. Sometimes you don't have to hear words to understand something. Sometimes gestures and actions say much more than words.

Of course I didn't mind dating secretly from the others. Well, I would agree with any Sunny's decision. But it was quite strange and uncomfortable to keep our relationship a secret. I just hoped it wouldn't last long. I wanted to have a normal relationship with Sunny without fear to be spotted.

###

In a couple of days, when we all gathered in the Pen, Zim told us what he'd managed to find out from the police about John.

All what John had told the guys in the train about pigeon breeding was true. But everything else what he'd told us later was a total untruth. Breeding fancy pigeons was his hobby, he really liked his birds. But messenger pigeons served to make money for him. He used them for a gems smuggling. His partners stole diamonds and other gemstones from mines and placers, and put them into special capsules, which were carried to John by the pigeons. Then John passed them further, using the grave with the marble pigeon as a warehouse.

'So the police gave an order for an exhumation to be conducted,' Zim said.

'To dig out the headstone?' I asked immediately.

'Not headstone,' Zim grinned, 'the coffin.'

'Why?' Richelle opened her eyes wide.

'They suspected something and decided to check. I presented at the exhumation process as a journalist,' Zim went on. 'At first they were digging. Then four men lifted the coffin. A really big, luxurious coffin, I'd say.

'Yuck,' Liz and Richelle shivered.

'So they opened it,' Zim went on telling. 'This woman was lying there. She looked as if she was just sleeping. Everyone opened their mouths in surprise. The woman was buried almost a year ago and nothing happened to her. I didn't believe my eyes. But then I looked closer at her and understood everything. It was just a wax doll '

'What?' my jaw dropped.

'A wax doll,' Zim nodded. 'Like they show in museums. It all was a phoney. False documents, false funerals, false grave. These guys made this grave to hide the diamonds there. As you, Tom, said, no one would ever think to find them in this place. They also made up this sob love story about a poor woman, who never even existed.

As it turned out, the inconsolable lover of this woman, was a chief member of a gang, which was engaged in gems smuggling. He was the "customer", as John had called him. It was him, who thought of hiding smuggled stones in such a weird place. John was a connecting link in this chain. He received the gems and hid them in the secret hollowed-out section in the headstone. Then the "customer" took them and sent them further.

But one day "the customer" felt that someone traced this chain, and that was why he staged his own death. He pretended that he was blown up in his car. The second victim of the cursed grave was a private detective, who accidently got on the trail of the criminals and decided to make money at their expense. As a result, he was killed. The third admirer of Theresa May was John himself, who accidently had met Zane, Nick and Elmo in the train and, to his misfortune, told them about his pigeons.

This difficult, but brilliant scheme worked perfectly until one day a feathered messenger, for reasons of his own, decided to have a rest in Zimmer's back yard. So if it hadn't been for the pigeon and Shadow's hunting instincts, John and his mates would continue stealing and selling gems, and no one would know about it.

As for Sam, he was another victim of this gang. He was a policeman, who tracked down John and gained his trust as an accidental fellow-traveler, what cost him his life. That's it,' Zim finished his story.

'You know,' Liz said slowly, 'maybe this grave was false, but all the same, it was cursed. Everyone who visited it with bad intentions was punished.'

'I told you,' Richelle looked down her nose at us. 'I told you that you would wish you'd never even heard of this grave. You all should listen to me.'


End file.
